


Memories of You

by AmarahOsiris



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Dean Makes a Deal, Episode: s02e22 All Hell Breaks Loose, F/M, I Blame Tumblr, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Reader Has Powers, Reader has a Gift, Reader is a Hunter, Sam Remembers things, Sam Winchester Dies, Series starts during 2x22, Tumblr: oneshoeshort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 12:46:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12682179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmarahOsiris/pseuds/AmarahOsiris
Summary: Our story begins during 2x22, All Hell Breaks Looks Part Two, where Sam wakes up from death after Dean makes a deal with a crossroads demon to bring him back to life. What will Sam do when he finds out nobody remembers his girlfriend Y/N?





	1. TEASER

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: DEATH, ANGST, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE
> 
> Banner made by me. GIF found on Tumblr. Credit to OA.

 

The disgusting kiss sealed the deal between Dean and the crossroads demon. His soul to be forever flambeed in Hell for the returned life of his pain-in-the-ass little brother.

Sam’s eyes snapped open, his lungs filling with every ounce of air he could fit in them. Warm, oxygenated blood rushed through his veins, bringing the beat back to his once lifeless heart. Dizziness set in as he sat up on the rotting mattress, trying to figure out how he got there. Getting out of the bed was another painful story.

He walked over towards the mirror and turned around, lifting his shirt, revealing the scarred shape of some unknown wound on his back. He had no idea where it came from, but he figured he would ask either you or Dean later.

Just as Sam was pulling his shirt back down, Dean walked in, a relieved expression on his face. Sam didn’t know why his brother looked like Sam just woke from the dead, he was sure he’d just taken a nap. Dean pulled Sam into the tightest hug he possibly could, a pained yelp escaping from Sam’s lips.

“Sorry,” Dean said quietly.

Sam just nodded his thanks. Then he noticed something was missing.

Or, more like someone.

“Where’s Y/N?”

Dean furrowed his brow. “Who’s Y/N?”

Sam’s chuckled a bit. _Is he fucking with me?_ “Very funny, Dean. Seriously. Where’s Y/N? You know…my girlfriend?”

Dean paused for a beat. “You don’t have a girlfriend.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “Uh, yeah I do. She’s been riding and hunting with us since that Wendigo case back in Colorado.”

“Sammy, I think I’d remember my geek little brother dating anyone after Jessica. You hungry? Bobby picked up some grub.”

Sam just stood there as Dean walked away. Sam pulled out his phone and looked for your number, but it wasn’t there. He looked through the photos on his phone and didn’t find any of the selfies the two of you had taken. He pulled out his wallet and dug around for the tattered printed picture of you he always kept in the event he needed to find you. And it was also gone.

What the fuck is going on?!

* * *

_–Sometime after John Winchester’s hunter’s wake—_

_“Guys, I can’t do this anymore. Losing your dad was harder than losing mine. I…I need to get out of this life. I need to. For myself.”_

_“What about us?” Dean spat angrily. He didn’t want you to go._

_“What about_ us? _” Sam said sadly, knowing that this meant the end of your relationship with him._

_“I’m sorry,” you said as you raised two fingers on both hands to their faces. “Please don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”_

_“But why? Why do you need to erase our memories?” Sam asked._

_“For my own safety. And yours,” you said quietly. “If anyone or anything comes after me, you two having no memory or knowledge of me might save your lives. And mine.”_

_You couldn’t stop the tears. And you didn’t want to. You knew leaving the life was going to mean leaving the only real family you’d ever had._

_As your fingers got closer to Sam’s forehead, he grabbed your wrist. You looked him dead in the eyes, and saw tears of his own that he didn’t bother to stop from flowing down his face._

_“I’ll always love you,” he whispered, kissing your cheek as he let go of your wrist._

_“I know,” you sobbed._

_Then you placed the fingers atop both their foreheads, and your gift did its job. Sam and Dean were both knocked back onto their motel beds, your power wiping their brains clean of any recollection of your existence._

_By the time they’d awake, you’d be long gone._

 


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our story begins during 2x22, All Hell Breaks Looks Part Two, where Sam wakes up from death after Dean makes a deal with a crossroads demon to bring him back to life. What will Sam do when he finds out nobody remembers his girlfriend Y/N?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: DEATH, ANGST, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE
> 
> This is mostly gonna be canon-diversion, and the first few chapters are going to delve into the reader’s backstory and how her, Sam and Dean met, as well as what led up to Sam’s personal mission to find her.

Your destiny was already planned for you before you were born.

Your parents were shocked when it was discovered they were expecting. Kids were never discussed between Dalton and Molly Parker, as Dalton was a veteran hunter and, well, kids weren’t exactly the kind of thing you had when you hunted supernatural monsters for a living. Once you were born, Molly told her husband that this child would know nothing about the hunting world and if he were to be a part of the child’s life, he was to give it up for good.

Which was exactly what he planned to do. Until Molly ended up being possessed by a demon intent on killing the newborn, a tiny baby girl.

Despite the pain and tragedy that would befell his life, Dalton did what he did best. He killed the demon possessing his wife, taking the mother of his daughter along with it. Burning Molly’s corpse was one of the worst memories Dalton Parker would ever have, watching as her body went up in flames as he bottle-fed his newborn daughter.

He didn’t have a choice but to continue the life in which he was raised in. And he knew he was going to be passing down the Parker family traditions onto you, just as his father and grandfather did to him.

Life on the road was tough in your early years. During a calendar school year, you went through no short of a dozen schools. But you managed to keep your grades up enough to score a full ride to Berkeley, giving you a chance to do anything you wanted in life.

Your father encouraged it, begged even. He wanted you to have something he never got. A chance to be ‘normal.’

“Daddy, this is normal. What we do, the infamous Parker Family secret, hunting is my life. It always will be. I only kept up with school because when we weren’t out training, that was my job. But now. Now I can continue the tradition.”

“I don’t want you to, sweetheart,” Dalton pleaded with you. “Please try to understand it from my point of view. There’s only one way you leave this life, my dear. You either die from a hunt, or you live long enough to want to die. There are no other ways to get out. But _this,_ ” he held up the packet that contained your invitation to Berkeley. “This is what I really want for you. And I know your mother would’ve wanted it too.”

Now he had you. It was never his intention, but every time he brought up your mom, usually it left you feeling guilty. Your mother died from the supernatural when you were a newborn. Without pictures, you wouldn’t even know what she looked like. But you weren’t a naïve kid anymore. It wasn’t going to work.

“Maybe,” you started, “but if Mom really was the awesome woman you always claimed her to be, I know she’d want me to do whatever I wanted. And I want to hunt. I’m a 4rg generation Parker Hunter. And I’m _good_ at it. Especially with my gift. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

It looked like you had your dad at that. Dalton knew his wife better than anyone else. And you were right. Molly _would’ve_ wanted you to pursuit what would make you the happiest. And if that was hunting, he had no leg to stand on in his argument.

But it still made him uneasy when you mentioned your gift.

He remembered when you first discovered your ability. You had the power to erase a person’s memory. And it could be tailored, altering memories to fit a person’s lifestyle. Very unique for such a young girl. It wasn’t anything too drastic, and it didn’t make you anymore of a witch than the ones they hunted, but it still put the rest of the hunting community on edge. He would hear the names some would whisper behind your back as you walked by. “Freak.” “Unnatural.” “Witch in training” “Satan’s whore.” He always made sure to keep his anger in check because he knew it was something you were proud of. It made you who you were. It made you special.

And that gift of yours proved to be useful when it came to hunting. Some of the people the two of you rescued didn’t want to remember the horrors that they faced every single day. So, you would put them at ease. You’d erased the memories of what they saw so they could go on living normal lives. Just a rested tap on the forehead with your index and middle fingers squeezed tightly together and the victims would go into a peaceful sleep. By the time they woke up, you and Dalton would be long gone, and the only memories of their encounters with the monster of the week would be that the loved ones they’d lost died a long time ago. They could go on in their own innocence, like it never even happened.

Sometimes Dalton wished you weren’t his daughter. That you were someone else who could’ve used your gift on him after Molly’s death. But he knew that wasn’t realistic. He was stronger than that.

“I don’t like it,” Dalton breathed, bringing him back to the present. “But you’re right. Your mother would want you to be happy. If you want to continue the Parker Family tradition, I won’t stop you. But, do me a favor first? Talk to your Uncle Bobby in Sioux Falls before you take on a case yourself. He may be able to give you some tips.”

“Why can’t you do it?” you asked as you continued field stripping your firearms.

“Y/N, I’ve taught you all I know. Sometimes other hunters can give you better insight. There’s no such thing as too much knowledge in this business. More knowledge equals less chance of dying on a hunt.”

So that night you packed up your stuff and prepared to make the drive from the small hideaway house in the middle of the Montana woods to Sioux Falls, South Dakota to visit one Bobby Singer, who had become like an uncle to you over the years.

Dalton’s first encounter with Bobby started through a mutual friend, but their lasting friendship continued through the shared experience of killing their wives possessed by demons. Bobby understood what Dalton went through and looked at you like the daughter he was sure Karen would’ve wanted.

Your father told you he’d be going on a hunt through Black Water Ridge in Colorado wilderness and he wouldn’t be back for a few weeks. You took it in stride as you did with any solo hunt he went on, said your goodbyes and the two of you split ways.

It would be the last time you’d ever see your father alive.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our story begins during 2x22, All Hell Breaks Looks Part Two, where Sam wakes up from death after Dean makes a deal with a crossroads demon to bring him back to life. What will Sam do when he finds out nobody remembers his girlfriend Y/N?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE
> 
> A/N: I am so sorry I'm so behind on updating this. I spent all last week being sick due to an adverse reaction to medication and now today I'm sick with some kind of upper respiratory thing. I'm bed bound but I am writing. Thanks to everyone who's left kudos and comments. They are the lifeblood of my works. I love you all so much <3 xx

You’d spent the next month at Bobby’s house in Sioux Falls, working cases on your own, taking his advice and helping with lore when you could. The two of you got into a comfortable routine. When you weren’t working a case, he paid you to help keep the house clean (to a certain degree. He always did like the clutter) and help with dinner. All your meals were homecooked from scratch and, judging by how much your uncle enjoyed them, you wondered if he’d had a homecooked meal every night since Karen died. But you knew it wasn’t your place to ask. That was one unspoken rule in Bobby’s house that you dad told you. Don’t ever mention Bobby’s wife.

After a month, you started to worry about your father. He always made sure to call when he was on hunts (and he had cell reception) or at least send a text message letting you know he was still alive.

But after a month with no communication, especially after he said he’d only be gone a few weeks, that hunter’s intuition that you’d picked up over the years started to sink in. It was something your dad always told you.

_“Even if you ignore me, never ever ignore your intuition. It can mean the difference between life and death.”_

You thought about voicing your concerns to Bobby, but there was a 50/50 chance of him telling you not to worry. Later that night, you figured that was the worst he could tell you.

“Uncle Bobby,” you spoke up at the dinner table as Bobby sipped his beer while feasting on the chicken pot roast you’d made.

“What’s on your mind, kiddo?” Bobby replied after swallowing.

“Have you heard from Dad lately?”

Bobby thought about it for a moment, then furrowed his eyebrows. “Come to think of it, I haven’t. He hadn’t talked to ya?”

“No, and it’s been a month.”

“Guess time flies when you’re having fun,” he grinned, trying not to sound like an old coot who couldn’t make a joke, but it didn’t matter. You enjoyed what little sense of humor Bobby had.

“I have enjoyed my time here, I really have, but I can’t shake this feeling that something’s very wrong with him,” you finished off your plate as you spoke, downing the rest of your wine. You and Bobby had your own preferences of alcoholic beverages. You believed anything could be paired with a dry white wine while Bobby saw beer as the new water.

“Have you tried calling him?”

You picked up your cell phone from the table. “No, I haven’t. I guess I’m so used to him calling me at the worst times that I didn’t think to. Let me try.” You had your dad’s number on speed dial so all it took was one button push to call him.

It went straight to voicemail, sending your heart rate through the roof. Dad never turned off his phone.

_“You’ve reached Dalton Parker at 894-302-7599. If your name is not Y/N Parker, John Winchester, or Bobby Singer, you should NOT have this number.”_

“His phone’s off…” you let your voice trail, horror pooling through your insides.

“That’s not like him.”

“Uncle Bobby, who’s John Winchester?”

Bobby looked up at you with an expression that made you think you broke the unspoken rule.

“I thought you met Jon and his boys.”

You shook your head.

“Ah well, I imagine not. John wasn’t very fond of dealing with other hunters.”

“Well I guess if Dad’s voicemail mentions him by name, he would be a hunter.”

“And a damn good one. The problem is the bastard’s been so hell bent on revenge he’s practically blind. But he’s got a couple sons, Sam and Dean, who’re being raised in the life, like yourself, driving around the country in an black ‘67 Impala hunting. Although I’d heard that Sam went off to college. Stanford, I think. Sam always was a smart kid. I think you’d like him.”

“And what about Dean? Did he go to college too?”

“Nah,” Bobby shook his head as he started clearing the table. You got up to help him. “Dean was always John little soldier. John’s a former Marine so his ways of hunting are very militant. Dean took to it like white on rice. Sam was the opposite.”

“Ahh, following the Winchester Family tradition, I suppose.”

“If you wanna call it that, sure.” Bobby started washing dishes as you put the food away. The two of you moved through the kitchen cleaning it up like neither of you were in there.

“Bobby, if Dad’s in trouble, I gotta go find him. Do you remember where he said he was heading?”

“Uh, Black Ridge something,” Bobby replied, walking over to his desk in the living room to retrieve a map. He scanned the Colorado mountains to look up something close to that name, and within a minute he found it. “Black Water Ridge.” He gestured you to come over to the map so you could look for yourself. You saw a big red X on the map right in the middle of “LOST CREEK WILDNESS AREA” the term “Black Water Ridge” just north of it.

“Looks like the middle of nowhere,” you mused.

“That’s what Dalton said, but he was certain there were mysterious disappearances in those forests, and went to investigate. If something’s out there-”

“There’s a chance it got him.” Bobby gave you a pointed look. “Look, I don’t like it any more than you do, but if that’s the case, I gotta go find him. Or at least give him the hunter’s wake he so rightfully deserves.”

Bobby could see you were firm on your decision, so he folded up the map and handed it to you.

“Just…be careful kiddo. I don’t need to be hearing no news about two hunters needing pyres built.”

“I will Uncle Bobby,” you said as he kissed you on top of the head.

* * *

Halfway between South Dakota and Colorado, you couldn’t keep lying to yourself.

You were fucking terrified to find your father dead.

Short of Bobby, he was the only family you had left. You couldn’t stomach the thought of finding him in God knows what condition. You prayed to whoever was listening in the sky that your intuition was wrong and that you’d be able to drive home with him.

When you arrived the next morning, you stopped by the Lost Creek Trail’s Ranger Station. You decided to pose as a concerned daughter looking for her dad who hadn’t been heard from in a month. Which wasn’t entirely a lie, but when Ranger Wilkinson decided to try and dissuade you from going on the trail, you had to step up your lying game.

“I appreciate the concern Ranger, but I’ve been hiking trails like this for most of my life, with my father as my guide. I think I can handle it.”

“Ahh yeah, he said he was a ranger from another part of the state hunting for deer. It is that time of year.”

You figured your father would create some kind of cover story to get around without too many questions. “Exactly. Where exactly did he say he was going to be, by chance?”

“He didn’t say, but a lot of hunters tend to hang around the old mine that shut down a few decades ago. I’d start there. But don’t go into the mine.”

“You have my word, Ranger. Thank you for your help,” you said cheerfully as you walked towards the door. As you were about to open it, two young men were about to open the door and run into you. The taller of the two opened the door wider to allow you to pass first, waving you through with his arm. The shorter man stepped aside and gave you a cheesy “hey pretty lady how you doin?” grin. You just smiled back at the taller man, who you noticed had longer, shaggy hair compared to the shorter man’s military crop cut.

“Thank you, sir,” you said politely to the taller man with a smile.

“No problem,” he smiled a tight weary smile with his answer. He was handsome, you’d give him that. They both were. But something about the taller, shaggy hair man struck you. You would ponder it later.

But not before you noticed the sleek black old muscle car parked next to your 2000 dark gray Chevy Silverado. You noticed it had the chrome word “Impala” on the driver’s side rear fender as you walked by to unlock your truck.

“Impala,” you muttered to yourself, turning back to look at the men who opened the door for you as you left. Then Bobby’s words floated around in your head.

_“Sam and Dean…driving around the country in a black ‘67 Impala, hunting…”_

You put two and two together to get four.

“Is that really them?” you said out loud as you started your truck up. It gave that familiar homey rumble as the engine purred to life. You pulled out of the parking lot to go find a motel and a diner for the night.

“Dude, she was totally checking out my baby,” Dean said, grinning like an idiot. Sam just rolled his eyes.

“You say that about everyone who looks at the Impala,” Sam replied as he looked at the detailed map of the area.

* * *

The following day, you drove out to the trail that lead to the mine.

And you saw the same old muscle car parked close by. The two men were talking with some of the trail goers, one of the clearly armed. It reminded you that you probably should be packing yourself. You strapped your trusty pistol to your thigh, low enough to grab it in a pinch but still high enough so it was concealed. You grabbed the missing persons print outs you’d made of your father and you walked towards the group to start your spiel.

“Hi,” you started, realizing just how nervous you were. “I’m looking for my father. He was last seen in this area, do any of you recognize him?”

Everyone took a flier and gave it a hearty look. The young woman with a pretty face and medium length wavy hair looked like she was going to cry.

“No ma’am, sorry,” said the older armed gentleman. “I haven’t even heard of this man before.”

“Okay, thank you,” you resigned, looking towards the others.

“Your father’s missing?” the short spiky haired man from yesterday spoke up.

You looked at him. “Yeah. Have you seen him?” The others didn’t hear you as they already started walking.

The shaggy haired man spoke next. “Can’t say we have. But I tell you what. We’re all headed out towards the trail. Maybe you should come along with us. You know, safety in numbers.”

“I appreciate it, but I’m not one to really-”

“Sam! Dean! You coming or what?” the wavy-haired girl shouted.

You gave the men a startled look.

“Sam? Dean?”

The men looked at you with an expression that just read _busted._

“Winchester?”

Now it looked like both had outright shit themselves.

“That depends, sweetheart,” said Dean, his whole demeanor changing from friendly to guard dog. “Who the hell are you?” Sam gave his brother a warning look.

“My name is Y/N Parker. I’m a hunter. And I’m going to assume you’re out here looking for the same thing my dad was before he vanished.”


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our story begins during 2x22, All Hell Breaks Looks Part Two, where Sam wakes up from death after Dean makes a deal with a crossroads demon to bring him back to life. What will Sam do when he finds out nobody remembers his girlfriend Y/N?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, DEATH, DETAILED KILLINGS, SOME FLUFF, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE

You, Sam and Dean walked together a few paces behind Haley, Roy, and her younger brother Ben. The three of you wanted to make sure they couldn’t hear your conversation. You were basically telling the brothers your entire life’s story.

“So, you were raised in the life?” Dean asked in a hushed voice.

“Mhm,” you replied, Sam looking at you curiously. “Daddy was bottle feeding me as a newborn the night he burned my mom’s body. Or at least, that’s what he told me. Dad didn’t know else to do, so he passed on the Parker Family tradition. I come from a long line of hunters.”

“So, if you were given a full ride to Berkeley, why continue hunting?” Sam asked with hungry eyes. You could tell he just couldn’t fathom choosing to hunt. To each their own, you thought.

“Because hunting is what I’m good at. I had a few kills under my belt before high school. I mean, sure, a cushiony life as an educated housewife might be nice, but it’s just not me.” You turned to face Sam now, and really took in his features. _Damnit,_ you thought, _he’s a lot better looking up close. I could stare at his face all week._ You pushed the thoughts from your mind. “Uncle Bobby told me you were at Stanford.”

“Wait, you have an Uncle Bobby too?” Dean chimed in.

“Uh-huh, Bobby Singer. He’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to family.”

“Looks like we know the same Bobby,” Dean chuckled.

“I would think so,” you giggled in response, sending Sam’s heart afire against his will. You had a cute laugh to him. You went on, “When I called my dad, his voicemail mentioned me, your dad and Uncle Bobby.”

“Yeah now that I think about it, Dad used to talk about someone named Dalton. Didn’t know he had a kid. I’m surprised we haven’t met you before if you were on uncle basis with Bobby.”

“Well,” you mused, fishing around in your bag for some jerky. When you struggled, Sam stepped up and helped you. He handed you the package of beef jerky with a smile. You returned his smile with your own, once again sending Sam’s heart rate up a notch. You offered him some with a silent gesture, but he shook his head. You shrugged and took a bite as you continued talking between chews. “Daddy used to say that John was barely friends with Bobby, therefore he figured he wouldn’t like any other hunters he associated with. My dad usually made sure when he dropped me off for a solo hunt that I would be the only one there.”

“Guess that explains it,” Dean mused, taking the jerky you offered him. In return, he opened a bag of peanut M&Ms and offered you some, which you gladly took. Any peanut covered candy was your weakness.

After more talking you and the group you’d become part of stumbled on a destroyed camp site. You wasted no time looking for signs of your father’s presence as Haley and Ben grappled with the thought of their brother Tommy being dead. Dean stayed closed to their sides while Sam followed you silently.

Then you saw it. You wouldn’t be able to miss it even if you were blind.

Your father’s custom dagger, a Parker Family hunting heirloom that was passed onto him from his father, was sticking out of the ground.

And it was covered in blood.

You dropped to your knees as you reached to pick it up out of the dirt. Sam came up from behind and knelt by you. You slowly closed your eyes, tears escaping from your eyelids.

You didn’t remember Sam being right there until he reached up to your face, gently wiping a tear away with the side of his finger.

“This is his blade. It’s been in my family for generations,” much to Sam’s disgust, you touched the blood and brought it to your tongue. You started crying a little more notably. “It’s his blood.”

“How can you be so sure?” Sam asked, trying his hardest not to throw up all over you.

“I know blood like the back of my hand,” and with that, you took the dagger and cut into your own skin, ignoring Sam’s shocked protests. You let a drop of your own blood fall to the ground before dabbing a clean finger in it, bringing it to your tongue again to taste. “Our blood is the same. Family blood…”

Sam dragged a crumpled-up Gas N Sip napkin out of his pocket and placed pressure on your arm, stopping the bleeding.

“We’re gonna find him,” Sam affirmed softly. “One way or another. If Dalton is here, we’ll find him.”

You looked up at Sam and his compassionate gaze warmed your heart.

“Thank you, Sam. I appreciate your kindness,” you smiled again. Sam stood and offered you his arm to help you up. You took it, and walked away, leaving Sam to his troubled thoughts.

_Jessica literally died last week. What the hell is wrong with me? I can feel my heart beating so hard right now. This is ridiculous. Why is this girl affecting me so much?_ He placed a tentative hand over his chest to feel the accelerated pounding beneath his sternum and tried to shake it off before joining the others.

Searching throughout the rest of the tattered campsite brought out more clues as to what could’ve been responsible for the disappearances. Sam figured it out first. He dragged his brother to the side to discuss his suspicions, you following behind. Neither brother objected since you were a hunter yourself. Sam asked for “Dad’s journal” and Dean provided, giving his brother a skeptical look. You liked the idea of keeping a journal for hunting references. You tucked the idea away for future use.

Sam showed Dean and you one of the first pages in the book, and it confirmed what your dad told you before he left.

“What c’mon…” Dean sighed with a grin, not believing his brother at all. “Wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or northern Michigan, I’ve never even heard of one this far west!”

“Think about it Dean,” Sam argued back coolly. “The claws… the way it can mimic a human voice…”

“This is it,” you said, causing both brothers to turn and face you. “This is what Daddy was hunting. He told me before he left. I have no idea how he figured, but there it is.”

“Which means there’s a chance Dalton could still be alive,” Sam eyed you with conviction. When you returned his look with a confused one, he went on. “But it also means gun and knives won’t work.”

“Basically,” Dean sighed, rubbing his face. “We gotta torch the sucker. There’s some stuff to make Molotov cocktails in the trunk.”

“I’ve got flare guns,” you chimed in. Dean just smiled.

“Those’ll work even better. C’mon.”

* * *

That night, Sam and Dean had a heart to heart about why they were there, and you couldn’t help but listen in. It made you smile when Dean told Sam about “saving people, hunting things, the family business.” It wasn’t too far from how the Parkers ran their own family business, if anything your dad said was correct.

When Sam mentioned his late girlfriend Jessica and how all he could think about was finding her killer, it broke your heart.  You wanted to go over to him and hug him, tell him how sorry you were for his loss, but you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt what seemed like a brotherly moment Sam and Dean hadn’t shared in a long time. You had to remind yourself you were essentially a stranger to them. And when you found your dad, the two of you were gonna go back home and you’d most likely never see the Winchesters again.

It kinda made you sad. You were really starting to like Sam and Dean. Sam especially. You were unsure, but you found yourself acting like a magnet, always pulling in his direction. He was very nice (and nice to look at) and he seemed to be the more empathetic of the two brothers. It was nice to see a hunter with those skills. In all your years in the business, that was a gift all on its own.

Then you heard Ben call out into the night.

“I wish I could just forget all about this!”

That got your attention. You grinned to yourself.

“I can help with that.”

That got Sam and Dean’s attention. And they got up and followed you towards where Ben and Haley were sitting, Roy standing around with his rifle keeping up the same cocky attitude he’d given Sam earlier in the day.

You positioned yourself in front of Ben.

“If that’s what you really want,” you began, “when this is all over, and Tommy’s been found safe, I can take the memory from this horrible experience from you. Haley too,” you glanced over at his sister. “But only if you really want it. Call it a gift of mine.”

“Oh please,” Roy spat, wandering over towards you. “What are you a witch or something?”

Dean looked at Sam, who looked like he was about to go sock Roy in the face, and placed an arm over his younger brother’s chest, side glancing him with a warning stare. Sam just glared back.

“Hey douchebag,” you snarled at Roy, “when I want your input, I’ll ask for it. Until then, why don’t you go back to pretending you’re hunting Bambi while the grownups figure out how to get out of this alive.”

“You disgusting little freak-”

“HEY!” Sam called out, now stepping between you and Roy. Dean wasn’t too far behind.

“You got a problem, kid?” Roy was practically breathing in Sam’s face now. Sam was starting Roy down with the most ferocious stare you’d ever seen a man make.

“You don’t have to like what Y/N says. But you don’t get to call her names. Got it?”

“What are you gonna do about it? Tell on me?”

“Call her a freak again. Or any name! To anyone! See how well that ends for you.”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Haley called out. Everyone looked in her direction. She was panting and on the verge of tears. “I don’t want any more fighting! Roy, Sam’s right. Everyone who’s here has a purpose, so don’t insult anyone else. I hired you and I can easily fire you. Remember that.”

Roy lowered his eyes, not daring to make eye contact with you or Sam. Haley looked back at you.

“Y/N. I do want it. If you can…you know…really do that stuff…”

“Yeah,” Ben chimed in, standing to join Haley. “Me too.”

You smiled, knowing Sam and Dean’s curious eyes were settled on the side of your face. Before you could confront them and explain what you meant, all of you heard the scream of a man in the distance.

It’s here.

All of you on alert, you heard the voice calling out again. You knew better this time, as did Sam and Dean. But with Roy still being the asshole that he was, he believed it to be something worth shooting. And it would be his downfall.

Sam and Dean ran after him and you stayed behind with Haley and Ben, assuring them it was gonna be okay. Ben spoke up.

“How do you do it?”

You looked at him. “Do what?”

“Make people forget things? Is…is it magic?”

You chuckled slightly, taking a seat on the log they were sitting on before. Both siblings sat down with you as you spoke.

“I’m not sure what it is, but I know I’m good at it. It does serve a purpose.”

“Will it hurt?” Haley asked.

“No. Not at all. You’ll fall asleep right away, and I think that lets my power do its thing. When you wake up, everything about the last few days will be wiped, replaced with something else. Most of the time it’s whatever you were doing before all this happened. But to tell you the truth, I don’t really know. I’ve never stuck around long enough to find out. And normally the memories of me are wiped away as well. Kinda makes sense if you think about it.”

Haley and Ben just nodded. They seemed more convinced letting you wipe their slates clean after this was all over with was the right course of action.

Sam and Dean came back after a moment of silence between you, Haley and Ben.

“Where’s Roy?” Haley asked.

Sam and Dean just looked at her, and Dean shook his head. It brought Haley back to the verge of tears again.

The next morning, Sam was sitting against a log with his dad’s journal in his hands. You came up to him and sat down in front of him.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked as you crossed your legs in front of you.

Sam just shrugged, not saying anything.

“I heard you and Dean talking the other night. I heard about…about Jessica…”

Sam looked at you with misty eyes.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” you whispered. “I wish there was more I could say or do. But there isn’t.”

“I thought about having you erase her from my memory,” Sam sighed. You looked up at him with concerned eyes. “I thought maybe…maybe it would be easier to move on…if I never knew her…”

“You don’t want that, Sam, believe me.”

Sam looked visibly angry now. “What would you know about that? At least there’s a chance your loved one is still alive. I watched Jessica burn on the ceiling of our apartment at Stanford.”

“More than you think,” you said, trying not to take his anger personally. When it appeared he was still listening, you went on. “I knew a hunter who found out about my gift. A real nice guy, but he was haunted by the death of his daughter. She was taken by a demon. He found her dismembered in the most brutal way imaginable. He couldn’t live with those nightmares any longer, so he asked me if I could erase the trauma from his memory. So I did. And he went on with life. Then he lost his mother, and he called me back, and I again erased his mother from his memory. But it wasn’t enough. Soon his entire family was picked off one by one, and each time he called upon me to eradicate the horrible experiences from his mind. It wasn’t until his grandson was taken and killed in a similar fashion to his daughter that I realized that…he was incapable of learning how to cope with loss. Instead of dealing with it, he just had me remove them. Those memories, as horrible as they are, they make up the kind of person you end up being. You learn compassion and empathy with loss and hurt. And he…he became nothing more than an empty shell of a human. I was slowly erasing his ability to _feel!_ At that point he wasn’t living anymore. He was just existing. When he called me to erase the memories of his grandson away, I turned him down. I told him exactly what I just told you. He, of course, didn’t believe me. How could he? I told him he needed to learn to deal with the loss and that I couldn’t take his pain away anymore. I got a call a week later saying he’d taken his own life. Many hunters who were close to him organized something of a witch hunt, calling for me to be killed because I supposedly killed a hunter.”

Sam sat there in shock. Slowly but surely, his anger turned into sympathy. He knew was it was like to be considered a freak.

You continued on, “so I made it a personal rule when it comes to expending my gift. Unless they’re dealing with a monster directly, and they’re not a hunter, I won’t erase those memories. Because one doesn’t truly die until they’re forgotten.”

Sam acted out of instinct and if he’d been anyone else, you would’ve fought him. He grabbed you and pulled you into a tight hug. He was squeezing you so tight, you could feel his heart pounding in his chest. You could also count each individual beat. You hugged him back, then he released you, wiping his eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “It sucks, but I needed to hear that. So…thank you.”

You just smiled at him.

The two of you resolved to find the Wendigo and hunt it down so it couldn’t hurt anyone else again. Sam and Dean started explaining what exactly a Wendigo was to Ben and Haley. Then, the hunt began.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our story begins during 2x22, All Hell Breaks Looks Part Two, where Sam wakes up from death after Dean makes a deal with a crossroads demon to bring him back to life. What will Sam do when he finds out nobody remembers his girlfriend Y/N?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, CHARACTER DEATH, FEELINGS AND SHIT, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE

With Dean in the lead, Haley and Ben following closely behind, and you and Sam bringing up the rear, the five of you went in search for the Wendigo. But you weren’t concerned about it.

The only reason you were here was to find your father. You could feel his presence. He _was_ here. It was just a matter of finding him alive. Sam called Dean over to examine a bunch of bloody claw prints in the trees high above them, and then you heard the growling of the Wendigo, followed by Haley’s screams as Roy’s mutilated body fell from the trees.

Dean came over to examine him and discovered his neck was broken.

“Run!” you cried out to everyone, and nobody bothered ignoring you.

Each one of you broke out into a fast sprint away from the sounds of growling. Ben tripped along the way and you and Sam stopped to help him up. But as Dean and Haley made their way ahead of you, they came face to face with something, causing Haley to scream again.

By the time you, Sam and Ben caught up to the sounds, the only traces of Haley and Dean were the broken Molotov cocktail on the ground. Sam called out to Dean, but nobody answered back.

That left you, Sam and Ben to find them yourselves.

* * *

“If it keeps its victims alive,” Ben began, “why would it kill Roy?”

“Probably because he’s a douchebag,” you snarked. Sam looked at you in surprise. “And because Roy shot at it.”

“Probably pissed it off,” Sam added. You came up from behind Sam and pulled him aside. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel like I’m just getting in the way, maybe I should just go on ahead and find my dad by myself,” you said shyly.

“No,” Sam assured you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You felt so small in his grasp. “No, I told you we would find him together and that’s exactly what we’re gonna do. You’re not alone in this.”

You nodded your head but weren’t entirely convinced.

“I mean,” Sam sighed, “technically we’re in the same boat.”

You looked up at him, your eyebrows closing in together.

“My father’s missing too,” Sam said, a sad expression on his face. “It’s why Dean and I are out here. Well, that’s what we thought. But now he’s passed on the hunting traditions to us. So…” Sam looked down at his shoes, then looked back at you, a deep breath escaping from his lungs. “Let’s find our dads together.”

You tried to smile, but you were too much into your own despair to even pretend you were okay. “Yeah but now Dean and Haley are missing. God knows where they’ve been dragged off to.”

“They went this way!” Ben called out, and you and Sam jogged over to where he was crouched down. Ben handed Sam a blue peanut M&M, and Sam smiled.

“Better than breadcrumbs,” he said with a chuckle. He smiled at you, and you felt your insides melt. _A man should not be this pretty,_ you thought.

The three of you followed the trail of treats towards what looked like an abandoned silver mine, bearing all the warning and no trespassing signage a place like this should have. There was a small entryway beside the barred door and, after Sam shrugged at you, he climbed through, you and Ben following suit.

Flashlight in hand, Sam led the way down a cold, dripping wet mine shaft complete with long forgotten train tracks. The sound of a growl caused Sam to push you up against the wall, and you did the same to Ben. Then you saw it. The 8-foot-tall hulking resemblance of what used to be a man, now a cannibalized monster. Ben was about to freak out, but Sam shoved his hand over his mouth, shushing him quiet.

Sam, you and Ben followed far behind to wherever the Wendigo would lead you. But all that earned you was falling through a wooden step, sending you crashing down to below ground level. Sam and Ben wasted no time climbing in to find you.

“Y/N?” Sam called your name when he found you, but you weren’t responding. He picked you up to cradle you in his arms, hoping it would arouse you. “Hey, hey!” he slapped at your face lightly, and you coughed a bit, opening your eyes. There was blood trickling down from your hairline. “You okay?”

“Mmhm…I think so…wacked my head pretty good,” you muttered as Sam helped you up, steadying you on your feet. You swayed a bit, and Sam held you firm.

“I can see that,” Sam mused. “Look at me,” he muttered, shining his flashlight into your eyes. When your pupils reacted to the light equally, he visibly relaxed. “Well, you’re not concussed, so there’s that.”

“Yay me,” you replied dryly. You and Sam helped Ben off the ground, and the three of you took in your surroundings. Sam noticed Dean and Haley suspended in the air by the shackles on their wrists first. Ben did next, and the two of them ran to help them down. But something on the floor got your attention.

No.

It couldn’t be.

It can’t.

No….

“NOOOOOOOO!!!!” you screamed out, not caring if that drew the Wendigo back to their location. Nothing else mattered, not even your own life.

Sam ran over to see what was the matter, and his heart dropped.

Your father’s crumpled up corpse was laying in your lap, and all you could do was weep. Cry for the man who would never come home. The man who _always_ came home after a hunt. Dalton Parker was invincible to you. He could never die.

Sam dropped to his knees beside you. He gently laced his arm around your shaking shoulders, hoping he wasn’t overstepping his boundaries. But you welcomed it. You leaned into Sam’s frame, and he wrapped his other arm around you, holding you close to his chest as you cried, smoothing back your hair. His face leaned into the top of your head, and he kept you in his grip for as long as you needed it.

Dean walked over to the upsetting scene before him. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t even move. He just stood there, watching as his little brother gave you what little physical comfort he could. Sam looked up at Dean, and Dean swore he saw a tear in Sam’s eye.

* * *

Sam, Dean, you, Haley, Ben, and Tommy, who was hurt but alive, were climbing out of the mine together, knowing there would be an entourage of law enforcement and first responders waiting for you. They loaded Tommy onto a stretcher with Haley and Ben not too far behind. Sam and Ben were giving a report to the police when you finally came to your senses and realized the Wendigo who killed your father was dead. He wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone ever again. It all happened in such a blur. The packs that were stolen were recovered and Dean used your flare guns to take the damn thing out. Seeing it burn while standing and shrieking should’ve been satisfying, but you knew more burning was in your future.

Before the Collins siblings were carted away in an ambulance, you approached them, asking the paramedics to give them some space while you talked privately.

“Are you sure this is what you really want?” you asked all three of them again. Ben had explained your gift to Tommy as best he could on the way out, while you filled in the blanks where he couldn’t describe.

“Yes,” Haley spoke, her brothers nodding. “I think this is the best way we can move on with our lives.”

You took a deep breath, Sam and Dean walking towards the unit to witness it. “Alright. I’d have to do it individually, and you’ll all be asleep for the next hour or so. When you wake up, whatever you were doing before Tommy went on his hike will be your last memory. The reason for the ambulance and police is Tommy was attacked by a grizzly and you two went out to find him. Okay?”

All three siblings nodded. Tommy offered to go first. You placed two fingers onto his forehead, and a faint golden white light appeared and shimmered into his skull, knocking him out. Then you followed with Haley, then Ben, the same thing happening to them. When all three siblings were unconscious, you called the paramedics over, telling them they wanted to sleep for the journey, and the paramedic nodded and left. Sam and Dean were standing there in awe as the ambulance went sirens blaring down the road. You didn’t acknowledge them. You walked right passed them and made your way back to the mine.

It didn’t take long for Sam and Dean to follow. Not a word passed between the three of you as you went back to where your father’s body lay. They helped by picking him up and dragging him out of the mine. The now four of you were in the Impala heading back to your truck. Dean demanded that your father’s body stay in the trunk, citing he didn’t want the “stink to ruin the leather,” but you firmly slapped him across the face, threatening to gut him like a fish for being so insensitive and heartless. You then threatened to just walk back to your truck alone with Dalton’s body, but Sam wasn’t having any of that. So Dean settled.

When you got back to your truck, Sam helped get Dalton out and placed him in the passenger seat, and you climbed into the driver seat. Sam and Dean followed you in the Impala to a stretch of woods with the perfect opening for a funeral pyre.

Dean built the pyre. Sam offered to help you wrap up Dalton’s body, but you refused.

“I’m not saying I don’t appreciate all the help you’ve given Sam, but this something I need to do.”

Sam didn’t argue. He just stood back as you wrapped up your father’s 6’3” frame in white linen that you kept in the trunk of your truck for cases just like this. Once the pyre was built, Sam, Dean and you carried your father’s linen-clothed body and placed it on the stacks of wood. Dean handed you a huge bottle of gasoline and his own personal Zippo.

You did the honors, dousing everything in sight with gas and then threw the lit Zippo onto the pyre, igniting the last blood family member you had left.

The three of you stood in front of the pyre, watching the flame dance and consume the remains of Dalton Fitzgerald Parker III. If you’d been a boy, you were certain Daddy would’ve insisted you’d be named Dalton the IV, but that never came to be. So, your mother named you Y/N M/L Parker. Which, now that you were an adult and thought about it, had a really nice ring to it.

“Goodbye Daddy,” you said, a sob evading your lips.

Dean pulled out a flask and held it high in the air. “To Dalton.” He took a long swig, grimacing as the whiskey burn going down his gullet.

“To Dalton,” Sam mimicked, taking the offered flask from Dean, and taking his own grimacing swig.

Sam offered it to you, and you just took it silently, finishing off the liquor in one long ass drink. Sam and Dean exchanged concerning glances.

The three of you walked back to your respective parked cars.

“So,” Dean asked, “what’s next for you?”

“Death.”

Sam and Dean’s heads snapped up to look at you.

“Hunting is all I have now. And we all know how it ends. Bloody. I have no life anymore. What I was gonna do, what I was gonna become, it’s all dead now, burning with my father back there,” you jabbed a thumb in the direction of the pyre back in the forest. “But right now, it’s taking everything I have no to put a bullet between my eyes…”

You broke down crying again, sinking into the ground onto your knees. Sam was the first to reach you, wrapping you once again into his firm embrace. You cried in his arms as Sam looked at his brother, an unspoken conversation playing between their eyes.

“Come with us,” Dean said at last.

You looked up at him with drenched Y/E/C eyes. You thought he was kidding. But judging by his expression, he was quite serious.

“I never thought I’d even ask, but I think we could benefit from having help looking for our dad,” Dean said, coming over to you and bending over, extending his hand towards you. You looked at Sam, who just smiled.

“At least this way,” Sam said as he and Dean helped you stand, his spectrum hazel eyes never leaving your face, “we can protect you. Help you heal. Move on.”

You looked between Sam and Dean, and they appeared to have both made up their minds. They wanted you to stay with them. Help them fight whatever came their way.

* * *

_–6 months later after Sam and Dean split up during a fight on a deserted highway in the middle of the night–_

You never thought of what it would be like to have brothers, or any siblings. You believed it was always just gonna be your father and you. But with the way things ended up, you really were becoming like their little sister. You hunted with Dean, helped Sam with lore research, and because of you, Sam and Dean kept closer tabs with Bobby. Bobby was devastated by Dalton’s death, but he knew all too well what leading the hunting lifestyle led.

You grew so close to Sam and Dean, being around them, palling around with them, making flirtatious and insinuating jokes around them because part of the norm.

Until the day Sam told you he loved you.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our story begins during 2x22, All Hell Breaks Looks Part Two, where Sam wakes up from death after Dean makes a deal with a crossroads demon to bring him back to life. What will Sam do when he finds out nobody remembers his girlfriend Y/N?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, FLUFF, SMUT, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, VOMITING, MENTIONS OF STABBING AND DEATH

Sam didn’t even bother eating what Bobby brought in. He took the only car he knew how to drive and disappeared into the night. Which he knew would piss Dean off since it was the Impala.

He didn’t know where he was going or what he was doing. But he just had one thought in his mind.

Find you.

He drove as far as he could until he realized he was going about this all wrong. He pulled off the highway and got out of the car. He took several deep breaths of cold afternoon air. He kept placing a hand over his heart to make sure it was still beating. He had a hard time believing he was alive.

Then the memories came back to him.

Jake.

The Yellow Eyed Demon.

Cold Oak’s night air.

The blade being thrusted into his back, severing his spinal cord.

The same blade that he should’ve killed Jake with.

He shook his head in disgust, running his hands over his face.

It all hit him at once and made him double over.

_I died._

Sam didn’t have anything in his stomach but that didn’t stop him from throwing up. He puked out all the bile his stomach could produce and spent several minutes dry heaving until he got his breathing under control.

That only meant one thing.

_Dean made a deal._

As pressing as those issues were, he couldn’t get you off his brain.

But more than that, he couldn’t wrap his head around why he was remembering you when no one else was.

It was bits and pieces. Flashbacks and blurs of the past. He figured out that if he was going to find you, he was going to have to retrace his steps.

Back to the last time you were together.

He drove until he was too tired and seeing things and found a motel just outside of a nameless Nebraska town. He rummaged through the trunk of the Impala and dug up all the old notes he’d saved over the course of the last year and a half. He remembered you started keeping a journal after you decided to join forced with him and Dean. He was thankful you’d left it behind.

_“You dad was smart to keep a hunting journal,” you told Sam. “I wanna do the same thing. Only it’ll chronical everything from this point on. Ta-da!” You presented Sam with a homemade diary complete with a lock and key. Though you were sure you were gonna leave it permanently unlocked. You were terrible with keeping up with keys._

_“Wow, Y/N, that’s nice!” Sam replied, taking the journal from your hands. It even had homemade paper in it. You were really getting good with arts and crafts. “You oughta open up your own arts and crafts business!”_

_“Nah I’ll just get blood all over it,” you mused, causing Sam to laugh._

Sam grinned to himself as the thought as he opened up your journal and started pouring over it.

He read and read for several hours until he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Sam started crying.

Crying for you.

Wishing he knew where you were.

Wishing you were here.

Wishing you hadn’t left him with a giant hole in his heart.

* * *

Your life was as perfect as it could be.

You moved halfway across the country to a small town in Connecticut. You helped run a bookstore. And you had the 3rd floor of the building as your own studio apartment. You’d sold your truck to pay for it, but that was fine with you. Your work and home were all in the same place, and anything you needed was a block’s walk away. You’d made lots of friends, and your boss, the owner of the bookstore Mr. Campton, had become like a father to you.

Everything was perfect.

Until you were reminded how perfect everything wasn’t.

_Sam was really getting good at eating you out. The way his tongue worked magic on and around your clit made you thirst for more. You wished he could bend in certain ways impossible to humans. Wished he could use his tongue and his fingers inside you. You imagined the orgasm that would be created would be so explosive, it would induce cardiac arrest._

_Sam stopped teasing you and pulled his face away from your pussy, and sank his fat throbbing cock inside instead and pounded into you like his life depended on it. You were thankful Dean not only chose a deserted motel with no occupants but the three of you, but that he was gone. Choosing to hit up a local bar, Dean mentioned he wouldn’t be back til “later”._

_You and Sam had no idea what “later” meant, but he threw Sam a condom as he walked out, citing “be safe kids!”_

_That got a laugh out of you, but you couldn’t quite get the laugh all the way out before Sam was onto you, kissing you wildly while simultaneously ridding you and himself of all articles of clothing. His dick was already hard by the time the two of you were completely naked and he smoothly rolled the unwrapped condom onto it. He threw you against the bed and immediately began sucking at your entrance, lapping up all your juices with his mouth, moaning as he licked his lips greedily._

_“Mmmm, taste so good,” he moaned, “gonna get you ready for me, gonna eat every last inch of this beautifully gorgeous tight pussy…”_

_As he continued his fucking, you screamed his name as loud as you could as your orgasm began to build._

_“You gonna come for me, baby?” Sam said breathlessly._

_“S-Sam please…I…I need… uuungh….”_

_“You what?”_

_“SAM IM… IM GONNA…OOOOOH!!! FUUUUCK!!”_

_You came all over Sam’s cock, your juices escaping from the walls of your pussy and around his dick. You screamed his name one more time before Sam’s own orgasm was pulsating through him, hot thick white ropes of cum filling the condom. He finished pushing it all out, then collapsed on top of you. You could see his body fluctuating up and down in time with your rapidly slowing heartbeat. He just laid there and listened as your lifeforce pulsed steadily through your body and into his ear. His breathing evened out and eventually the two of you fell into a post-coital sleep._

_Sam woke up first, still in the same position he was in when he fell onto you. He looked down at you and noticed you were still asleep. He breathed in your beauty. The way your hair flowed around your face like a majestic veil. How your face was so relaxed and even without makeup on, you were still the most beautiful woman on earth. Your breasts were the perfect size to him, enough to fit your chest and give your body its womanly curve but slightly too large for him to hold one in his hand._

_He wanted to wake you up with a quick hand job, but you were already stirring._

_“Morning handsome,” you breathed._

_“Morning beautiful,” Sam replied, peppering your jawline with delicate kisses._

_“If this how every morning is going to be,” you sighed, stretching, your breasts sticking out more in Sam’s face, allowing him to kiss each of them. “I never want to leave the life…”_

Sam fucking Winchester. Literally.

He was the puzzle piece missing from the complete set.

You wanted to regret everything, but it didn’t matter now.

Even if you did go out to find him, reunite. He wouldn’t remember you.

You hadn’t used your gift on anyone else since the Winchesters that night. Was it cowardice to leave? Probably. But your father’s words echoed inside your head as you started feeling the guilt creep up.

_“Sometimes it takes doing a cowardly move to take care of yourself. Because, if you can’t care for yourself, how can you care for anyone else?”_

As cliché as it sounded, Dalton was right. You _did_ need to take care of yourself first. But you weren’t stupid. You knew if Sam and Dean remembered who you were, they’d be heartbroken and a giant mess.

It was better this way.

* * *

“I don’t know Ellen,” Dean aggroed into his phone. “Sam just disappeared and he took my car, the bastard! I’m gonna kill him. And who the fuck is this Y/N chick? He kept saying she was his girlfriend.”

_“I don’t know Dean,”_ Ellen sighed into the phone. _“I have no idea who he’s talking about either, I don’t know anybody named Y/N. But Bobby is out there looking for him, as are other hunters across a 4-state span on Bobby’s orders. So far nothing. Nobody’s seen Sam since before he was taken to Cold Oak.”_

“Well if he strolls into the Roadhouse, can you do me two favors?”

_“What’s that?”_

“First and foremost, punch him in the face for taking my Baby. And then call me. This is like looking for our Dad all over again. I’m fucking going crazy!”

_“I can’t make any promises on the first one, but that second favor…you’ll be the first to hear from me. Take care sweetie.”_

And with that, Ellen hung up the phone. She looked around to see Jo, her daughter, staring at her.

“What?”

“You know what needs to happen, Mom.”

Ellen breathed an exacerbated sigh. “I know.”

It was hard enough on Dean that he sold his soul to bring Sam back, and now his biggest fear was that Sam was going to get himself killed trying to find this mystery girlfriend of his and Dean’s sacrifice was gonna be for nothing.

* * *

It was after dark and you were closing up shop. You and Mr. Campton filed around each other, putting merchandise away and stocking shelves, like you and Bobby used to do at his house. It was sort of nostalgic.

“I’m headed out, Y/N,” Mr. Campton called out from the front door some time later, putting on his jacket. “I trust you’ll lock up?”

“When do I not?” you winked at him. He just smiled his old crinkly eyed smile and left, placing his Bowler hat on top of the white tendrils of hair he had left and fastening his scarf around his neck to shield him from the outside cold. You sometimes felt bad that he lived so far away from the store, but then you reminded yourself that he probably had a wife he went home to every night and living out in the country was worth it.

You sighed as you locked the door behind him and finished counting out the register. You locked everything in place, went over all the tasks that needed to be done in the morning before opening time, then turned out the lights and headed to the backdoor.

The back door led to an elevator that was only accessible with a passkey. And you were the only one who had a passkey. You stepped inside the elevator, pressed the “3” button, and loosen your bun from the top of your head as the elevator climbs to your studio apartment.

You were pretty certain whoever owned your apartment before you was a Bohemian gypsy in a past life, because a lot of their décor and furniture was left behind, draped in stained white sheets. You managed to liven the place up a bit with your small budget and breathe new life into the retro style. And you’d tailored it to your own personal taste. So when you walked through the front door after a long day’s work, you knew you were home.

You’d acquired an orange tabby cat too, also apparently left behind. He had no collar or tags or anything to identify him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to dump him at a shelter. So, you looked into how much it would cost to keep him and realized it was affordable. You didn’t mind the new roommate. You always wanted a cat of your own. You named the little orange furball “Dusty” because when you found him, he had a layer of grime and dirt from living off the occasional rat that scurried across the floor. You only suspected rats as you found several carcasses around the apartment. You wasted no time making the place livable not just for yourself, but for your new roomie.

You turned on the lights and closed the curtains to let the warm glow settle into the living room, then grabbed one of your tea kettles. Picking out a bag of chamomile lavender tea and the agave nectar from the cupboard, you turned on the stove, filling the kettle with tap water. Then you reached down into the bottom cupboard to feed Dusty his evening meal.

Then you heard a phone ring. And you froze.

You had two phones. Your cell phone, which was not only on you at all times but it was the only number you gave out, and a landline in your apartment.

There was only one person who had that number.

You walked over slowly towards the old corded telephone on the counter and hesitated before picking it up. “Ellen?”

_“Y/N sweetie, we’ve got a big problem.”_


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, MENTIONS OF SAM’S DEATH [be safe, dear readers]

_You walked over slowly towards the old corded telephone on the counter and hesitated before picking it up. “Ellen?”_

_“Y/N sweetie, we’ve got a big problem.”_

“What do you mean?” your voice was shaky at best. You never thought you’d hear from Ellen Harvelle again. Or, at least, you were hoping you wouldn’t.

_“I just got a call from Dean. Sam’s looking for you.”_

You shuttered at that name. This was what you feared most of all. Your biggest fear was coming to life and all you wanted to do was run away again.

“How the hell is that possible, Ellen? Nobody recovers from the results of my Gift. Nobody!”

_“I don’t know, sweetheart, but right now that’s where we’re at. Dean called me panicking asking if I’d seen or heard from Sam. Apparently he ran off with his car. Bobby’s already got an APB out for Sam, but so far nothing yet.”_

“Ellen, you remember your promise, right?”

_“Of course I do. But Y/N, eventually we’re not gonna be able to lie to Sam or Dean. They’re too damn crafty and you know it.”_

You grimaced at her words, knowing all too well she was right.

* * *

_Ellen handed you a straight vodka on the rocks and held you as you cried, Jo rubbing soft circles on your back. You’d just done the one thing you never thought you’d have to do. You erased the memories of your boyfriend and his brother and then took off. You were certain they were still unconscious at the motel two towns over. You’d even swapped license plates on your truck to ensure nobody would follow you._

_“I’m so stupid and selfish, Ellen,” you cried into the older woman’s abundant chest._

_“No, sweetie, you’re not stupid.” Ellen shushed you, smoothing your hair away from your face “But you’re selfish for the right reasons. Believe me, nobody chooses the life of a hunter. And there’s only one way it ends. You’re doing the right thing. You gotta take care of yourself.”_

_You sniffed and looked up at her with beady eyes, and Ellen just gave you a sympathetic smile. You went back to hugging her, your sobs quieting with each breath you took._

_“So, what now?” Jo spoke up softly. “Even if they don’t remember you, Bobby will Y/N. Eventually he’s gonna come looking for you, you’re like a daughter to him! And we’re gonna be his first stop on the ‘Burn Down the World To Find Y/N Grand Tour.’ What are we supposed to say? What are we supposed to do?”_

_You sniffed once more, then an idea struck you._

_“I’ll call Bobby. He’ll believe it if he hears it from me. He knows I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Sam or Dean, especially Sam.”_

_“You sure about that?” Ellen inquired. “Want me here just in case?”_

_You thought about it over a pregnant pause, then agreed. “Yeah, I’ll call him now.”_

_“Use the Roadhouse phone. The signal’s shit here.”_

_You nodded and got up to walk around the bar and grabbed the phone. Ellen recently upgraded to a cordless landline, so she could walk around the bar and talk if need be. Which was great because you were gonna need the speakerphone feature that the old rotary telephone from bar’s past didn’t have._

_You dialed Bobby’s personal landline number that wasn’t tied to hunter business and waited for what felt like an eternity for him to pick up._

_“Well if it isn’t the Roadhouse Queen herself,” Bobby answered in an unusually cheerful voice. “How are ya Ellen?”_

_“Uncle Bobby?” you spoke in a timidly quiet voice._

_“Y/N?” His demeanor changed from a cheerful old man to that of a concerned father. “Are you alright?”_

_Before you could say anything, you put the phone on speaker. Ellen spoke up. “Bobby, you’ve got Y/N, me and Jo on speakerphone. We got some shit to discuss.”_

_“Alright, but before anyone says anything, I asked my niece a question.”_

_“I’m not okay, Uncle Bobby,” you spoke again. “And that’s why we’re calling.”_

_You and Ellen took turns telling Bobby everything. From John Winchester’s death, the circumstances surrounding it, and what you did to Sam and Dean. You did most of the talking, with Ellen there to fill in the blanks where you were too emotional to speak and Jo for emotional support._

_“Damnit,” Bobby sighed, and you could hear the clinking of a glass tumbler in the background. You figured he’d be pouring himself a drink after hearing one of his longest hunting friends had bit the farm. “So…given all that’s been said, I have to ask. I get why you’d call to tell me this, Y/N. But I have a feeling there’s more to it than just letting me know what’s going on.”_

_You took a deep breath before speaking again. “In all my life and the years I’ve spent cultivating my Gift, I’ve never heard of anyone recovering the memories I’ve erased. But… I just want to ensure that_ if _it does happen, everyone know what to do and say. I know for a fact that if Sam or Dean start to remember me, they’re gonna try and drag me back into the life.”_

_“You’re not wrong there,” Bobby mused._

_“And I can’t have that happen,” you continued. “It hurts so much that I erased their memories but…I have to find my own way. One that doesn’t involve dying a premature death at the hands of monsters and demons.”_

_“I understand, sweetie,” Bobby said. “I… I’m gonna miss ya, kiddo.”_

_“I know, Uncle. But this is the only way to keep them and myself safe.”_

_Ellen spoke next. “So, what I’m thinking is we all have a cover story. The most obvious one would be to play dumb and pretend we’ve never heard of Y/N before.”_

_“That seems like the only one that makes sense,” Jo, who’d been silent up until now, said. She was still rubbing your back. “The only other thing I could think of is coming up with a story about how Y/N died.”_

_“Nah, Sam’s a research master,” you replied, looking up at Jo. “It wouldn’t take him but 5 seconds and a heartbeat to realize it’s a lie. There wouldn’t be any record of my death and I, like the boys, have a lot of aliases. Too much work. I know that sounds incredibly lazy of me, but I’m sticking to that.”_

_“Not just that,” Bobby added, “But Dean is an expert tracker. Got that from John. Even if there was a fake record on file, he’d be able to track you down to the very detail and discover anything he wanted to know. He might be a shill at sitting down and researching, but if it means benefiting Sam’s well-being, he’d move the entire solar system to do it.”_

_“Okay then it’s settled,” you affirmed. Ellen and Jo looked at you with a puzzled expression. “I want all of you to make me a promise. I’d suggest a blood pact if we were all here but that seems a bit excessive.”_

_“Anything for you, princess,” Bobby replied, and your heart swelled. He hadn’t called you ‘princess’ since you were a kid._

_“If, and this is a_ very _big if, either Winchester suddenly remembers who I am, I want all of you to promise me you won’t say anything. Swear it on your life, your loved ones’ grave, I don’t care as long as you swear it to me. When I erased their memories, I also erased yours.”_

_Ellen and Jo exchanged a look, then Ellen spoke up. “Bobby?”_

_You held your breath as you waited for your beloved uncle’s response._

_“You have my word, Y/N.”_

__

* * *

_“Y/N, I have a feeling he’s gonna come here first. Bobby told me he’d already left, so I’m guessing he asked him and Dean about you and neither of them spilled.”_ Ellen went on.

“Well Dean wouldn’t, for obvious reasons,” you reminded her.

_“True, but I gotta feeling Dean isn’t telling the whole story.”_

“What are you thinking, Ellen?”

_“Something happened to those boys, particularly Sam, before Sam took off. I mean, we know Sam has psychic abilities so…maybe that has something to do with it?”_

“I dunno,” you said slowly, pacing around your tiny kitchen, Dusty trying desperately to nuzzle against your moving legs without getting stepped on. “Maybe… just remember…”

_“If either boy shows up at our doorstep, we know the drill. But I’m just warning you. It won’t last. If what Dean’s saying is right, it’s like you never erased Sam’s memory…”_

Your heart froze solid in your chest. If Sam could undo what you did to peoples’ memories, there’s no telling what else he could do with his own abilities.

* * *

Sure enough, a week later, Sam showed up at the Roadhouse. He was fortunate enough to find an old picture of the two of you together in one of your journals. So, he could use that as leverage to figure out what happened to you.

It was all he could think about. Despite what happened in Cold Oak, what _was_ going to happen when the Yellow Eyed Demon realized Sam was still alive, and what Dean was gonna do to him when he finally caught up with him and the Impala (no doubt Dean was already plotting ways to kill him for it) you were his primary focus. If there was a big war coming between hunters and demon-kind, he was going to need, and want, you by his side.

He walked through the front door of the old hunter’s bar and tried to act casually, but with his heartbeat at a rapidly increasing pace, it was hard to remain calm with his whole body trembling. He was so scared. He feared for your safety. He feared you were dead. He couldn’t bear the thought of waking up from the dead just to discover you were waiting for him on the other side. Wherever that was.

He was also worried that if you were, in fact, dead, Dean’s deal was going to mean nothing because he was already planning to take his own life.

But he pushed back those thoughts and tried to calm his pounding heart as Ellen appeared from the back.

“Sam!” Ellen called out, reaching out to give him a hug, which Sam gladly accepted and returned. Then she looked at him and knew. “Sweetie, what’s the matter? You look sick? Are you feeling alright?” She pushed herself to her tiptoes and pushed his bangs back with a tender hand to feel his forehead.

“Actually, that’s why I’m here,” Sam said, his voice wavering.

Ellen knew this wasn’t going to end well as Sam slowly and shakily pulled out the picture of you and him.

“Ellen,” Sam softly said, on the verge of tears again. He couldn’t bear to break down now. “Please tell me you know who this is. _Please._ Dean and Bobby are both acting like she doesn’t exist. But she does! She’s my girlfriend and I love her. I know she’s missing somewhere. Her name is Y/N Parker.”

Ellen studied the photo for a long moment, and all she wanted to do was cry. You looked so happy in the picture. Sam had his arm around you and you two were leaning against the Impala. You both had big smiles on your faces. Ellen was sure that Sam hadn’t been that happy in a long time, and was pretty positive you had that in common.

“Ellen?” Sam said, snapping Ellen out of her trance.

Before Ellen could say anything, Jo came inside.

“Hey Sam!” Jo said with a big smile on her face, ready to hug the crap out of him, but stopped at the sight of his heartbroken face. “Sam, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Sam wasted no time shoving the picture in Jo’s face. “Please Jo, tell me you know who this is. I’m begging you.”

Jo looked from the picture to her mother, and Jo instantly knew she wasn’t going to be able to lie because it looked like Ellen had already made up her mind not to lie either.

“Guys,” Sam breathed, taking a seat at the bar. “I…I think I died…”

That got Jo and Ellen’s attention quick.

“And…” Sam went on, taking more shuttering breaths. “And I think Dean made a deal to bring me back…”

Ellen snapped. She grabbed the phone from the hook and dialed a number, placing it on speakerphone.

_“Singer.”_

“Bobby is Dean anywhere near you?”

_“Ellen? Uh, no Dean went to go-”_

“Good. We need to talk about him. I’ve got Sam here with me at the bar.”

_“Wait, Sam’s there?! We’ve been burning rubber trying to find the damn kid! Put him on!”_

Sam scooted closer to the speaker end of the phone. “Hey Bobby.”

_“Don’t you ‘hey Bobby’ me, ya goddamn idjit! Where the hell have you been the last few weeks? Your brother has been torturing demons and all kinds of shit looking for you! What the fuck were you thinking running off like that?!”_

“Bobby,” Sam flinched at how frail his own voice sounded. He’d been scolded by Bobby before, but never like this. “Please listen to me. Has…had Dean told you about why I’m upright?”

There was a long pause at the other end. Then a sigh. _“Yeah… I already ripped him a new one for it. Look, I’m sorry I yelled at ya, but-”_

“No no you had every right to,” Sam sighed, suddenly feeling tired. “I shouldn’t’ve run off. And for that I’m sorry…”

“Bobby, did Dean mentioned Y/N to you?” Ellen spoke up. Sam shot his eyes up at her.

_“Yeah…but I kept my word… Please tell me you’ve done the same thing…and that Sam’s not listening to any of this…”_ the worry in Bobby’s voice had Sam on high alert.

“You know,” was all Sam said. “You know where she is.”

_“Now Sam, listen to us, and listen to us good before you do anything drastic.”_

“This whole time I’ve been trying to find her, and all of you have been pretending she doesn’t exist? WHAT THE FUCK?!” Sam was yelling now, his anger palpable in the air.

_“Damnit, boy I said listen!”_ Bobby pushed. Sam allowed himself to fume a bit before going silent. Bobby took that as a sign to continue. _“Look, Y/N went to the Roadhouse after…well, after she erased you and your brother’s memories…”_

“Wait…” Sam got very quiet, his voice now barely above a whisper. “She used her Gift on us?”

* * *

_“Guys, I can’t do this anymore. Losing your dad was harder than losing mine. I…I need to get out of this life. I need to. For myself.”_

_“What about us?” Dean spat angrily. He didn’t want you to go._

_“What about_ us? _” Sam said sadly, knowing that this meant the end of your relationship with him._

_“I’m sorry,” you said as you raised two fingers on both hands to their faces. “Please don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”_

_“But why? Why do you need to erase our memories?” Sam asked._

_“For my own safety. And yours,” you said quietly. “If anyone or anything comes after me, you two having no memory or knowledge of me might save your lives. And mine.”_

_You couldn’t stop the tears. And you didn’t want to. You knew leaving the life was going to mean leaving the only real family you’d ever had._

_As your fingers got closer to Sam’s forehead, he grabbed your wrist. You looked him dead in the eyes, and saw tears of his own that he didn’t bother to stop from flowing down his face._

_“I’ll always love you,” he whispered, kissing your cheek as he let go of your wrist._

_“I know,” you sobbed._

_Then you placed the fingers atop both their foreheads, and your gift did its job. Sam and Dean were both knocked back onto their motel beds, your power wiping their brains clean of any recollection of your existence._

* * *

_“Sam, it doesn’t matter why she did what she did,”_ Bobby went on, _“what we need to focus on is why you can remember her now.”_

Sam stood up and walked around, running his hands through his hair. “…Is she at least alive?”

Ellen hesitated before saying, “Yes.”

Sam collapsed to the knees, relief flooding his insides, but it did nothing to calm his still racing heart. “I’m so glad…if she…if she was…” he couldn’t even get the words out without the threat of breaking down, but they needed to know. “If she was dead…I wouldn’t be going back to Dean alive.”

“Sam,” Jo began, making her way towards Sam on the floor, kneeling beside him, “you don’t mean that.”

“No, I do!” Sam growled through clenched teeth. He looked at Jo. “If Y/N was dead, I would’ve left and taken my own life. Don’t even think that I’m joking because I’m not.” The seriousness and fear in his eyes was clear to see. Ellen knew there was no holding back. She had to tell Sam where you were.

But that could wait. Back to the matter at hand. Ellen spoke up again.

“Bobby this is getting to be too much. I know we made a promise to Y/N, but things could get messier than if we just tell him.”

There was another long pause on the line.

_“I agree…”_ Bobby sighed. _“She’s in Connecticut.”_

* * *

Your entire week had been a shitshow. You couldn’t focus at work, you could barely do menial tasks without someone snapping you from your trance. Mr. Campton asked several times if you were alright, if you needed to take time from work to see a doctor, but you shrugged them off, claiming it was just lack of sleep. Unless he actually slept on your couch upstairs, he wouldn’t know that you were lying.

When you got off work that night before a two-day-off break, you didn’t even bother making your nighttime tea. You just couldn’t function with these newly discovered findings.

How the hell did this happen? How could someone surpass your Gift? Maybe Ellen was right. Maybe Sam’s psychic powers made this possible. But it just didn’t make sense.

The landline phone rang again, violently shaking you from your thoughts. You slowly picked up the receiver and brought it to your face. “Hey Ellen.”

_“Hey sweetheart,”_ Ellen cooed. _“How you holding up?”_

“Not good, so if you’ve got something to say, please just say it.” You weren’t trying to sound rude or brash, but the lack of sleep was gnawing at your patience.

_“You’re not gonna like it. And you’re probably gonna put out a hit for me.”_

“I’ll burn that bridge when I come to it. Just…please…”

You heard Ellen take a deep steadying breath over the phone, then she spoke.

_“Jo and I talked with your uncle Bobby.”_

“Uncle Bobby?” You hadn’t heard from your uncle since you left. “Is he alright?”

_“He’s fine honey. Misses you something awful. But that’s not the point. I, uh… I have Sam here with me.”_

You didn’t get a chance to speak or react. You heard some static at the end of the line. Then, your whole world came crashing down with only your name being spoken by a voice you never thought you’d hear again.

_“Y/N?”_

“…Sam.”


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our story begins during 2x22, All Hell Breaks Looks Part Two, where Sam wakes up from death after Dean makes a deal with a crossroads demon to bring him back to life. What will Sam do when he finds out nobody remembers his girlfriend Y/N?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, FLUFF, DRUNKENNESS, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE

You didn’t get a chance to speak or react. You heard some static at the end of the line. Then, your whole world came crashing down with only two words spoken.

_“Y/N?”_

“…Sam.”

It was all you could to keep yourself from throwing up.

Sam remembered you. Sam wasn’t supposed to remember you.

“Sweetie, talk to me…” Sam said after you didn’t say anything else.

“…I can’t.”

“Why?”

Your only response was the sound of you hanging up on him.

“Y/N? Y/N?! Damnit!” Sam slammed the phone down on the counter, walking away from around the bar and into the dining area. He massaged the bridge of his nose with his fingers, trying to control his breathing, as well as his emotions.

Ellen didn’t say anything else. Jo looked at her with sympathy. Ellen nodded at her daughter and picked up the phone again, calling Bobby. She placed the phone on speaker once again, so everyone could hear.

_“Ellen I’ve got Dean here and he wants to talk to Sam.”_

“Bobby I don’t think now’s a good time. Y/N just hung up on him.”

_“Well good luck convincing big brother of that. He doesn’t seem to care what’s going on with Sam. He wants to rip him a new one for taking the Impala.”_

Jo spoke up now, suddenly angry. “Tell that big stupid dumbass that the world doesn’t revolve around that goddamn car. His brother’s in some serious shit, whether he wants to believe it or not.”

_“I heard that you dumb blonde!”_  Dean spat back into the phone.

“You watch your tone with my daughter, boy,” Ellen cursed dangerously. When nothing else was heard from the elder Winchester brother, Ellen continued. “I think we all just need to take a breath and talk about this. I won’t lie though, it might be easier to do it in person. So…do me and Jo need to take a road trip, or do you feel like driving to Nebraska?”

Bobby spoke up.  _“Dean and I will start packing. See you in a few days. And Sam?”_

Sam walked back towards the phone. “Yeah Bobby?” His words reflected how defeated he felt.

_“We’re gonna figure this out. So in the meantime, please stay with Ellen and Jo. Dean and I will be there soon. Can you do that for me?”_  Bobby’s tone was much gentler, something Sam appreciated.

“Yeah. See you soon.”

* * *

Ellen gave Sam one of the spare rooms on the top floor of the bar and let Sam sleep off his newly acquired blood alcohol content. It was almost 3 in the morning, so he had plenty of time to drink himself into a depressed oblivion.

She had a feeling you’d still be up. You sounded like you hadn’t slept in a year. So, she figured she’d call you and give you an update on the situation.

Ellen dialed your landline number again. She never thought she’d ever have to call it and now she’s called it at least 4 times in the last week alone. Strange times.

_“Hello Ellen,”_  you said monotonously.

“Hey sweetie. How you holding up?”

_“Not doing so great. I can’t seem to fucking function knowing Sam remembers me. How could this happen?”_

“Well that’s something we need to discuss. Are you sitting down?”

_“Is it that serious?”_

Ellen paused a moment before speaking again. “I had to tell Sam where you are.”

_“you WHAT?!”_

“Y/N, if he hadn’t told us he was going to kill himself, I would’ve kept my mouth shut!”

You damn near dropped the phone on your foot.  _“What?”_  That had your attention.

“He said if he couldn’t find you or if you were dead, he was going to take his own life. You don’t understand Y/N, we already lost Sam once. God knows what Dean would do to all creation if Sam died again.”

_“Wait…Sam… Sam died?”_  Your heart was in your throat, beating at a very painful pace. The thought of Sam dying made you sick to your stomach and you had nothing in there to throw up even if you could.

“It’s a long story, baby,” Ellen went on to explain what happened at Cold Oak, and all that had happened since you’d left. The painful visions Sam had early on you knew about, but them being linked to the Yellow Eyed Demon that took not only his mom and girlfriend, but now his dad; it was all news to you. You allowed some tears to escape your tear ducts and roll down your face silently. Sam Winchester was a handsome young man and a beautiful soul to boot. His kindness and compassion truly showed the size of his heart and you knew you weren’t worthy of having him in your life, but he proved you wrong every time. He gave you his heart. And you remembered the cheesy way he did. It brought a smile to your face to reminisce as Ellen explain everything.

* * *

_It was 2am. Sam and yourself were laying on the hood of the Impala, a blanket draped over the two of you and the stars hanging above you in the sky, their shimmering glint on full display without a cloud to hide them. It was a beautiful night, and Sam had just told you something you’d honestly been hoping he’d say._

_“You…love me?” you queried._

_“I do,” Sam spoke just above a whisper. He was too busy taking in your facial features in the dark, as if to commit them to memory. Which was ironic considering your Gift. “Can I prove it to you?”_

_“Sam, I know you don’t carry condoms. That’s your brother’s job,” you mused. Sam just laughed._

_“No no not that! Only if you want it though,” he winked at you. You just rolled your eyes, earning you another laugh from Sam. “Let me show you,” he said._

_He propped himself up so he was sitting up, you following suit, and unbutton his flannel a bit so that his white V neck undershirt was showing more. He held out his hand towards you. “Your hand, my lady?”_

_You held out your hand towards his, and he took it gently. He positioned your hand, palm flat facing him, and laid it firmly against the center of his chest, more so towards the left than the right. Your eyes gave a confused gaze._

_“Can you feel it?” He asked just above a whisper._

_You looked away from his eyes and looked down at where you hand was. You could see, even in the faint moonlight, your hand moving slightly to the rhythm of his heart. You soaked up the feeling, taking mental notes. You guessed his heart rate about a steady slow 60-65, and you imagined he had a healthy athletic heart that he took care of. Well, you didn’t have to imagine it. His diet rarely consisted of anything that wasn’t health conscious, and he drank more water than you and Dean combined. He went on runs and exercised where and when he could considering the nature of the job. It inspired you to try and live healthier, but it wasn’t always easy. Life on the road and all that. “I can,” you whispered back._

_“I never thought I’d be able to give my heart to another girl, but…” Sam took a breath before continuing, “I’m willing to risk it all over again for you.”_

_You continued to feel his calm heartbeat for a moment longer before looking him in the eyes. Your smile was all the answer he needed. Then the two of you shared a passionate kiss. Sealing your relationship._

* * *

“So…what do we do now?” You asked after Ellen caught you up on recent events, and giving you plenty of time to react. You were grateful.

_“Well Sam’s not gonna rest until he sees you,”_  Ellen replied.  _“He drunk himself into a slumber and is currently sleeping it off. Dean and your uncle Bobby are on their way to the Roadhouse so we can all sit down and discuss this shit in person.”_

“I can’t believe all this crap is going down,” you sighed, sitting down at your little dining room table, Dusty jumping into your lap. You pet him lazily before continuing. “But I guess that’s neither here nor there. After you guys have your meet and greet, what’s the plan?”

_“Sam knows you’re in Mystic so he’s gonna show up. I’d just do him the basic courtesy of talking to him and then decide if he stays or goes. Don’t make any rash decisions just yet, sweetie. It’s all gonna work out.”_

“I hope you’re right, Ellen,” you replied. “I should go. I have the next two days off from work and I really should spend it sleeping.”

_“Yeah you sound like hammered shit.”_

“Gee, thanks.”

_“You know I’d never lie to you.”_

“Yeah…it’s one thing I always liked about you. And Jo.”

_“We love you sweetie.”_

“I love y’all too.” And with that, you hung up, praying that that landline phone never rang again.

Before you could get up to give Dusty a snack, you heard a noise outside your door. Your hunter instincts immediately kicked in and you grabbed the pistol you kept in the kitchen drawer. You checked to make sure it was loaded and chambered a round, then slowly approached your door. With tactical precision, you opened the door and checked the hallway outside, but when you found no one and nothing that could’ve made any noise, you relaxed. You turned around to go back inside, and were completely oblivious to the hard metal object that struck you in the back of the head, knocking you out cold.

You’d get your wish though. The person wielding the metal pipe that knocked you out went inside your apartment and cut the landline to your kitchen phone, then smashed your cell phone to bits.

You were dragged out of your home, leaving Dusty to once again fend for himself, the pool of blood on the threshold the only evidence that anything had happened to you.


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our story begins during 2x22, All Hell Breaks Looks Part Two, where Sam wakes up from death after Dean makes a deal with a crossroads demon to bring him back to life. What will Sam do when he finds out nobody remembers his girlfriend Y/N?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, FLUFF, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, KIDNAPPING, MENTIONS OF BEING CAPTURED, HEAD INJURIES, MENTIONS OF LARGE QUANTITIES OF BLOOD [be safe, dear readers]

In the time it took Dean and Bobby to get to the Roadhouse, Sam was able to sober up and get over his hangover. He knew if he was going to go see you, he needed to be a clear headed as possible. So, he made a personal vow to not drink until then. Which was probably a good idea considering the sole thought of drinking right now made him want to throw up again.

He was going through your journals and making an internal game plan on what he would do when he saw you again. He planned out exactly what he would say, what needed to be discussed, and then he would give you the opportunity to either let him back into your life or kick him back to the curb, and whatever you decided, he would be okay with. No animosity, no hard feelings, he would accept whatever decisions you made and wish you the best.

He just  _really_  hoped you didn’t show him the door.

Being your boyfriend what was he had needed after Jessica’s death and the subsequent thrust back into the family business, especially after they’d found John again. You’d kept his anger in check, made sure he didn’t say or do anything irrational towards his dad that he would later regret. You’d helped him to understand why John did what he did for him and Dean, even if that wasn’t your intention. Although when he really thought about it, he felt bad for being a dick towards his dad when you’d just burned yours.

Sitting around a large circular table was Dean, Sam, Bobby, Jo and Ellen, beers and what looked like a Thanksgiving feast surrounding them. It’d been a while since the Winchesters had had a decent filling meal and Ellen always said that a serious conversation was always better spoken with good food. Nobody disagreed with her.

“So, I guess everyone is caught up on what’s happened?” Sam asked, pushing his empty plate away from him. He could eat everyone out of house and home but settled on just three helping of food this time. Which wasn’t saying much as everyone else had just one or two.

“Yeah,” Bobby gruffed, finishing off his beer. “Y/N’s been living in Mystic, Connecticut since she left the life. She has a job running a bookstore and lives in the apartment above the shop. From what she told me, it’s a quiet life.”

“Nothing’s ever quiet about hunting,” Dean mused with a mouthful of food. He swallowed before continuing. “Eventually your past comes back to bite you in the ass.”

“Maybe so,” Ellen said, helping herself to more chicken and green beans. “But the old man that owns the joint seems to keep her protected from stuff like that.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“His name is Billy Campton, sixty-four, lives on the outskirts of Mystic with his wife Marylin. From what Y/N told me, she got comfortable enough around him to tell him a bit about her past, and he in turn told her about his own adventures in hunting.”

“Wait, he’s a hunter too?” Dean asked.

“Used to be,” Bobby answered. “Somehow he’s been able to keep his nose clean of hunting for the last 20 years. His wife doesn’t even know about it.”

“Huh,” Jo said. “And we know all this because Y/N told you?” Her question was directed towards Bobby.

“I practically raised the girl myself when Dalton was away on hunts, which was often, so if she was gonna tell anyone I imagine it’d be me.”

“Fair enough,” Sam mused. “Do we have a way to contact this Billy Campton by chance?”

“Doubt it,” Bobby sighed. “Guy can barely work a cell phone, so I doubt he has one. He lets Y/N manage all of the technical gizmos around the shop.”

“I can believe that,” Dean said amused. “Did we ever tell y’all about the time she reconfigured Sam’s laptop after a fight? We came back from a hunt and his entire home screen had every Hello Kitty icon you could imagine.”

Everyone shared a laugh at that. Even Sam laughed, and it reminded him just how smart you really were. He felt good about being able to laugh about it now.

* * *

_You knew it would piss Sam off if you messed with his computer, but he should’ve known better than to leave it lying around._

_He and Dean were gonna leave you behind on a particularly dangerous hunt and despite all your best arguments, they weren’t budging. Dean eventually said you could come along, and you were happy that for once he was on your side. But when you said you had to go to the bathroom before leaving, they made quick work on their escape, speeding off in the Impala before you could come back out, taking your packed bags with them. Which contained your cell phone. So you were left with only the clothes on your back and the small bits of food picked up at the convenient store on the way to the motel._

_You knew Sam was asking for it when you spotted his laptop under the bed. That’s when you put your payback plan into action._

_You went into his MySpace account and wrote several derogatory and embarrassing status updates on his behalf, then you went into the operating system and reconfigured sound notifications to play defecating sounds instead of the typical stationary ones. Then you changed the wallpaper, icons, and uploaded several pictures of Hello Kitty doing sexy smutty poses._

_Then all you had to do was wait for them to come home._

_It took a week to complete the hunt. It had you worried at one point, but you knew if anything had happened to them, someone would’ve found a way to contact you, particularly Bobby since he was listed as Sam and Dean’s next of kin unofficially, their FBI boss officially. Bobby wasn’t great around a computer, but he knew he could figure it out to get a message to you. Then you could just hotwire a car to drive to Bobby’s place if need be._

_After a week of being gone, you’d mostly gotten over your anger. When they walked through the door, you acted like you were so relieved to see them alive. You threw your arms around Sam and he kissed you in return, then you hugged Dean._

_“So…” Sam began slowly, “you’re not mad?”_

_“Hey you wanted to keep me safe,” you said cheerfully while keeping your tone as neutral as possible, “I_ was _mad, but I get why you did it. Now it would’ve been nice if you’d left my phone behind…but meh. We got past it.”_

_Sam took the bait. He honestly believed you were behind it and went for his laptop. You assumed he had some research to do and Dean went to grab a beer from the fridge. You held your breath as you waited for him to discover the inevitable._

_Sam practically exploded._

_“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY COMPUTER Y/N?!” Sam shouted at the top of his lungs as you collapse onto the neighboring bed in a fit of giggles. He looked up at you with a look of mixed anger and shock._

_Dean came over to see what the commotion was about and started laughing right alongside you._

_“Oh that?” You said innocently. “That’s what happens when you double cross me.” Your face melted from innocent and sweet to hardcore anger. “I shouldn’t have to prove myself to you after everything we’ve been through. There is no such hunt that’s ‘too dangerous’ for me. THAT is not your call, Winchester.”_

_Sam just looked at you with his mouth hanging open in shock and disbelief. You maintained your death glare. Dean was trying to catch his breath from laughing so much. You walked over to Dean and slapped him across the face._

_“Ow!” Dean gasped, holding his face with one hand gingerly. “What the fuck was that for?”_

_“You were part of this too, so don’t think I didn’t poison anything you’ve just consumed.” You stared him down to the point of submission. He quieted his laughter and sat down next to Sam, who was still fuming._

_“Alright,” Sam said after a minute of silence, taking a deep breath. “We’re sorry.”_

_“Sorry for what?” You said mockingly, cupping your hand outward from your ear. You wanted to hear him say exactly what you wanted to hear._

_Sam sighed and glared at you. “We’re sorry we tricked you and left you behind.”_

_“And?”_

_Sam looked at you like you were joking, but the serious expression on your face said anything but. “It won’t ever happen again.”_

_“It better not,” you said as you took Sam’s laptop from him and began undoing the damage you did. “You took my cell phone with you. Everything I owned was in the truck of the Impala. You’re lucky there’s a laundromat here at this motel. If ANYTHING had happened to you two, it would’ve been a long time before I got word of it. Bobby’s not that great with a computer.”_

_“Your phone was in the trunk?” Dean asked._

_“Yes,” you said without looking up, “as were all my clothes and toiletries. I had to shower with the stinky motel soap.” Dean was about to laugh, but your glare peeking from above Sam’s computer stopped him. “I’m just glad you two are alright. Here, I’m done.” You handed Sam back his computer. You made sure to back up everything he had before screwing around in case you couldn’t reverse it._

_Though it would serve as a permanent reminder to him not to fuck with you anymore._

* * *

Everyone helped clean up after dinner. Dean and Bobby offered to get a motel room for the night but Ellen wouldn’t hear of it. She insisted there was plenty of room for everyone to stay, so they did just that. Sam and Dean shared the room Sam spent the night in recovering from his hangover and Bobby stayed in the room opposite of them.

Sam and Dean both decided they were gonna go see you in Connecticut. Sam wanted to go alone since he was the only one who’d recovered from your memory spell, but Dean wasn’t hearing any of it.

“Sammy you’re still a target for the Yellow Eyed Demon,” Dean argued. “I won’t put it past him to try and track you down and do something about you being alive again.”

Sam was too tired to argue back, so he agreed to have Dean drive him the full day’s drive from the Roadhouse to Mystic, Connecticut.

Little did they know they wouldn’t find you there.

* * *

Dark. Cold. Wet.

Those were the only sensations you were feeling when you finally emerged from your mini-coma. Also pain. You were in a severe amount of pain from many different places. Your head for one was throbbing at the rhythm of your heart. You tried to reach to feel if there was a lump somewhere but found your arms were bound tight. Very tight. You tried to fight against your restraints but the grime-covered ropes binding you just dug into your skin deeper, causing them to bleed.

Where the hell were you? Were you even in Connecticut anymore? Lots of questions, and no way to get answers.

Your stomach also hurt from hunger. When was the last time you’d eaten? The rumble it gave off echoed in the dingy hellhole you were currently occupying. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d ate something. Of course that wasn’t saying much, seeing as you couldn’t remember a lot of things. That hit to the head must’ve caused some kind of short term memory loss.

Oh, the irony was strong today… or tonight…whichever… you couldn’t tell what time of day it was either.

“Oh good, you’re finally awake!”

That voice. Why did that voice sound so familiar?

A single bulb light was turned on overhead, blinding you as your vision adjusted. You heard footsteps coming towards you. Then something grabbed your face with such roughness it made you hiss in pain. You then looked into the eyes of your boss. You would’ve screamed as Billy Campton’s eyes turned solid black but your throat was too dry to even make a squeak.

* * *

Sam and Dean packed up everything they thought they might need for the journey. They cleared all their weapons in case anything hunt worthy were to happen, then hit the road hours before dawn.

Sam started the drive, making it til about noon then Dean demanded to take over as Sam almost ran the Impala off the road falling asleep at the wheel. Sam snoozed in the backseat as Dean drove til long after nightfall, not shying away from blaring his usual Metallica tapes. Sam was fortunate he had his over-the-ear headphones with him so he could drown out the music. He had to be able to sleep somewhat in the uncomfortable backseat.

They made it to the sleepy seaside town of Mystic, Connecticut at around 2am the next day, and there was only one motel within their price range. But to their advantage, it was down the block from where your apartment and place of employment was. They decided it wouldn’t kill anyone to sleep for a few hours and hit the place when the sun was up.

Well, that’s what Dean thought as he was dead tired and didn’t feel like knocking on your door in the middle of the night. But Sam thought otherwise. Like you, he never ignored his hunter’s instincts.

“Sammy it’s 2 in the fucking morning,” Dean tried to reason, “she’s already pissed you know where she lives. You’re not gonna be doing yourself any favors by waking her up at this hour.”

“Dean, I’m telling you. Something isn’t right.”

“How the hell can you tell? The bookstore looks like every other shop on this street. Closed!”

“Fine,” Sam huffed in annoyance, throwing the motel key at him. “You get some sleep, and I’ll go check it out. It’s just a hunch, but I’ve got a bad feeling something wrong.”

“Oh no, you’re not going there alone.”

“But you’re exhausted. You refused to let me drive after I slept in the car and you’re practically falling asleep standing up!”

Dean wanted to argue but his brother was right. He’d driven the last 14 hours of the journey and he was having a hard time seeing what was in front of him. But if Sam was right, which a lot of the time when it came to suspicious shit, he wasn’t about to let him go off on his own. Dean didn’t bother speaking. He grabbed his gun and tucked it into the back of his waistband and left the motel room, Sam following close behind.

They crossed the street and walked up the road to the little mom and pop bookstore.

All the lights were off inside. But the door was completely unlocked. And ajar.

“Told you,” Sam whispered as he and Dean both drew their guns. Then, tactically, they snuck inside and did their usual sweep of the place.

When nothing turned up on the first floor, Sam noticed an elevator in the back. He gestured to Dean and Dean came up in front of him, gun still drawn. He pushed the buttons to get it to open but it wouldn’t budge.

“Looks like it needs a key to operate,” Sam said.

Dean looked around, then went outside towards the back of the building and found a fire escape ladder. He pulled it down, then he and Sam climbed it to the second floor that led to the balcony of your apartment. It didn’t surprise them that your sliding glass door was unlocked. This wasn’t the kind of town where locking all doors and windows at night was necessary.

They slipped inside your apartment with ease and without being noticed. Dean sneezed.

“Bless you,” Sam said, an amused grin on his face.

“Aw fucking hell,” Dean said, rubbing his nose with his sleeve, “she’s got-” before he could get it out, Dusty brushed up against their legs. “A cat.” Dean sneezed again. “Damnit…”

“Hey buddy,” Sam cooed gently as he bent down to pet the orange tabby. Dusty nuzzled against Sam’s body in a gesture of friendliness, then licked his fingers before giving them a boop with his head. Sam picked Dusty up and walked him towards the kitchen as Dean started searching the place for some tissues to blow his nose. Sam always found it ironic that his brother was allergic to cats. Dusty started mewing like he was hungry, so Sam went digging around to try and find food to feed him.

That’s when he saw the blood. And his heart stopped.

“Dean…”

“Kinda busy over here,” Dean grumbled with a nasally voice.

“Dean…” Sam’s voice had that tone that told Dean he was in trouble. It snapped Dean out of his attitude quickly.

Dean walked over to where Sam was standing and saw the huge pool of blood at his feet. Dean’s heart dropped to his knees. Then Dean turned around a picked up the smashed fragments of a cell phone.

“Oh shit,” Dean finally said. “Guess you were right, Sammy.”

“Y/N’s in big trouble.”


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our story begins during 2x22, All Hell Breaks Looks Part Two, where Sam wakes up from death after Dean makes a deal with a crossroads demon to bring him back to life. What will Sam do when he finds out nobody remembers his girlfriend Y/N?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, DEMON SHIT, TORTURE, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, DESCRIPTIONS OF GORE

_“Dean…” Sam’s voice had that tone that told Dean he was in trouble. It snapped Dean out of his attitude quickly._

_Dean walked over to where Sam was standing and saw the huge pool of blood at his feet. Dean’s heart dropped to his knees._

_“Oh shit,” Dean finally said. “Guess you were right, Sammy.”_

_“Y/N’s in big trouble.”_

 

* * *

 

 

You froze in terror as the man that  _was_  your boss got closer to you. And realization hit you.

You were never free of the life. You never truly made your escape. You should’ve known better. Like Dean always said, you can never leave the life. Eventually it finds a way to drag your ass back in.

You didn’t know how long Mr. Campton had been a demon, but at this point it didn’t matter. He knew you were a hunter. You’d told him things you wouldn’t tell ordinary folk. And now you had a feeling he was going to use that against you.

What if this demon knew about the Winchesters? What if he was using you as bait? Again, that didn’t seem to matter to you. You’d die before you gave up your former lover and his brother.

Mr. Campton slapped you hard across the face, causing you to shout in pain, spitting blood onto the cold cement floor.

“You know,” Mr. Campton said cheerfully, as if he was delighted to have you bound and beaten to a pulp. “I wasn’t planning on doing this for at  _least_  another couple of years. But, ya know, orders are orders. And what the boss wants, the boss gets.”

“T-The…boss?” you wheezed.

Mr. Campton swatted you across the face again, another yelp of pain evading your lips. “I believe you and those fucking degenerates known as Sam and Dean call him ‘Yellow Eyes’.”

You could feel the exact moment your heart turned to solid ice. Mr. Campton wasted no time grabbing what looked like a miniature ice pick and dragged it across your face.

“Now we can really have some fun,” Mr. Campton giggled.

* * *

Sam and Dean combed your apartment for any more clues that could lead to your whereabouts. But to their disapproval, none was made available. Sam ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his heart pounding feverishly in his chest. Dean wasn’t much better, as he took the crumbled remains of your cell phone and threw it against the wall.

The brothers climbed out the window they came in (after Sam ensured that Dusty had plenty of food to eat, to Dean’s displeasure) and Sam pulled out his own cell phone.

_“Please tell me you’re calling me at this ungodly hour to tell me my niece is okay,”_   Bobby grumbled sleepily.

“There’s signs of a struggle, large pool of blood in front of the door, cell phone smashed…” Sam had to reign in his emotions to be able to speak. “Bobby, she’s gone. And she’s in big trouble.”

_“No shit, Sherlock,”_  Bobby spat back. Sam could hear the seasoned hunter getting out of bed.  _“Well from Nebraska there’s not much I can do. And if she’s in trouble, by the time the crew and I get out there it may be too late for additional help.”_

Sam hadn’t considered that, and internally he cringed. This was a battle that the brothers we’re gonna have to fight on their own. If this was a demon that took you, it wasn’t going to be easy to trap. And as far as they were aware, there wasn’t a weapon in existence that could outright kill a demon. Their best chance was a shit ton of holy water and the element of surprise. And that’s assuming it  _was_  a demon. One way to find out.

“Thanks Bobby, but I think we can handle it,” Sam finally said.

_“You sure about that?”_   Bobby asked.

“Yeah. I mean, it won’t be easy. But we’ve faced some pretty heavy hitters before now.”

_“Alright…if you’re sure. I’ll let Ellen and Jo know you made it to Connecticut okay.”_

“Thanks again, Bobby.” And with that, Sam and Bobby hung up. Sam went back towards Dean, who was bringing the Impala to the front of the bookstore. Dean got out and immediately went to the trunk, popping open Baby’s false bottom and examining the arsenal at their disposal.

“Dean, stay here,” Sam said. And before Dean could say anything in response, Sam started back up the emergency ladder. Dean, being the protective big brother that he was, hastily followed Sam back into your apartment. Sam went straight to the front door and kneeled down, careful not to touch the blood. Just looking at it made him want to vomit. The thought of you being harmed in any way made him physically ill, and he was going to make who – or what – ever did this to you pay with their pathetic little lives.

Sam pulled out his flashlight and started searching. But he smelled it before he found it.

“Sulfur.”

* * *

Your screams went unheard. Your pain went unnoticed. Your suffering was known to you and you alone.

“I gotta tell ya, sweetie,” Mr. Campton. No.  _It_  said. You were no longer going to recognize this monster as anything but. “your screams make this much more enjoyable. Coulda maybe do it a little louder? Maybe a bit more…high pitched?”

“Fuck you,” you spat blood in its face. It didn’t seem deterred. “You can go to Hell!”

It just laughed. You cringed at the sound.

“Well see, that’s kinda on the conflict-of-interest side, my dear,” it swiped the dirty meat hook in your thigh and you screamed more, but it went on as if you didn’t do anything.

“Why are you doing this?” you gritted your teeth through the pain, “What did Yellow Eyes promise you? Huh?”

That got its attention. It went from happy to angry in a snap. It wacked you over the head with the meat hook then jerked your face towards it with a fierce grip. “My superior’s name is Azazel. You will address my master by his proper name or not at all, you fucking whore.”

It tossed your head out of its hand and continued strolling along.

“You know,” it said, “If your precious Sammy had stayed dead in Cold Oak, I wouldn’t need to be here.”

Your head shot up so fast to face it, the action made you dizzy. You were starting to feel the affects of the blood you’d lost.

“Ahh I have your attention now, don’t I? Yes, my boss told me to go ahead and take you captive to draw his future demon commanding general. He knows all about your abilities. And how they were erased when the older twit sold his soul to bring him back.”

You froze.

_It makes sense,_  you thought. You’ve known about that with traditional witchcraft. When someone is resurrected, whatever curse or spell afflicted them while alive is wiped clean from their bodies. But you were having a hard time focusing on thinking about the ins and outs of your Gift. You were bleeding profusely, the pounding in your head was slowly starting to tapper off as your heart rate slowed down, and your vision was starting to sport tiny black dots in your peripherals.

“I swear you’re not what Azazel chucked you up to be,” the demon kept talking, “if you weren’t such a weak, lowlife human, you could’ve figured out by now how to undo your own spell work! But enough about that…”

You tried to face him at this revelation, but your body refused to cooperate.

_If Sam and Dean are here,_  you thought, barely conscious now,  _I hope they come soon…_

And with that last thought, you blacked out. You didn’t feel the meat hook force itself from your back through your chest.

* * *

“Whatever this demon fucker is, they didn’t do a good job of covering their tracks. Heh, when will they ever learn?”

Sam chuckled at Dean’s quips. But he did have a point. There was an almost clear path leading from your doorstep towards what seemed to be a basement under the bookstore. But that gave Sam another sickening thought.

“It’s more than likely a trap, Dean.”

“Sammy, how many demons have we taken out up to this point? They all do the same crap, and they’re all vulnerable to the same shit. This’ll be no different.”

“Yeah, except they’ve got a hostage.”

Dean kept his mouth shut. He’d already said enough earlier and it didn’t go over well with Sam. When Dean really thought about it, he wished he knew who you were. Maybe whatever happened with Sam’s memory could be recreated with his own. True, Sam never had much luck when it came to love, but you’d managed to survive a whole year without them, successfully leaving hunting. Maybe…maybe you’d be different.

Dean wanted that for Sam more than anything else.  _Poor kid’s been through enough,_  Dean thought.

The brothers approached a doorway that led deeper underground, the sulfur trail ending right in front. Both men drew their guns at the ready. Sam nodded at Dean as Dean kicked in the door.

The underground warehouse looking room was empty except for two figures, one in a chair in the center and the other standing right above them.

Sam’s heart dropped at who he saw bound to the chair. Bloody, unmoving, and upon closer inspection, not breathing.

“Y/N.”

* * *

Sam and Dean immediately started firing at their target. They managed to make the possessed man stumble long enough for Dean to get his big squirt bottle of holy water out. He doused the man and the man hissed and shouted as the holy water burned into his flesh, leaving chemical burn-like holes in his flesh. Sam ran up towards the man and started shouting the exorcism.

But the man got his bearings and with a wave of his hand, Sam and Dean went flying across the room. Dean slammed into a weight-bearing steel pole, snapping his arm at the elbow. The audible crack could he heard by everyone but you. Sam slid across the floor and landed against the back wall. In the blink of an eye, the possessed man was right in front of Sam, staring him down. Sam’s gulped, his heart racing.

“I’m on specific orders not to kill you,” the man’s eyes slipping into an ebony faze. He jabbed a thumb back towards the sound of Dean struggling to get up with one functional arm. “Your brother is fair game.”

Sam struggled to sit up. “Who’s orders?”

“I believe you miserable meat sacks disrespectfully call him ‘Yellow Eyes’.”

Sam’s body suddenly forgot how to move, his breath stuck in his chest. Fear was radiating off of Sam, and the possessed man in front of him smirked in victory.

“But first!” he snapped up, the cheerfulness in his tone making Sam want to plug his ears. “I have a certain…other…special child to deal with. See, Azazel knew you’d come back for her once your memories were recovered. And he has uses for her…Gift.”

“Leave…her…alone…” Sam gritted his teeth with agony, struggling still but managing to stand up to his full height. “He wants me, fine. But leave her out of this. She’s got nothing to do with the demons!”

“Oh but that’s where you’re wrong, my boy!” the demon approached your still form and, to Sam’s horror, yanked the meat hook out of your back, sending blood and guts flying everywhere. Sam continued to stare at you in the same horrified manner. The wound from your chest was squirting small amounts of blood at a steady rate, meaning your heart was more than likely impacted. “Azazel has big plans for her. And you’re gonna be the first to witness her slaughter.”

Sam tried to get up and tackle him to the ground, but he just held up his hand, using his demonic telekinetic abilities to keep Sam in place. Sam was helpless to save you.

The demon’s eyes went back to black as he uttered a Latin spell. Your body started twitching awake, then your face contorted with pain. You tried to scream, but no sounds fled from your mouth. Instead, a beautiful white light in the shape of an orb could be seen slowly moving up from the inside of your throat, snaking its way out of your mouth. The pain you were experience must’ve been detrimental, as Sam was withering in pain himself at the sight. The orb of light that he presumed was the manifestation of your Gift was free from your body, and you fell limp once more.

“NOOOO!” Sam shouted with all his might. He looked over at Dean and found he was still on the ground, gripping his broken arm in agony.

This was it. This was how every one of you was going to die.

The demon had the orb floating just above his outstretched palm.

“And now,” the demon spoke, moving closer and closer to Sam. “It is yours. But I guess it’s fair to warn you, your body might reject this power. Risk of spontaneous combustion, internal bleeding, death, et cetera, ec cetera…”

Sam had no strength to fight it. Everyone was right about Yellow Eyes. In the end, Sam was going to submit to his plans for him and he would lead a demon army in an all-out apocalypse.

Sam could feel his body reacting to the power as it got closer. He felt his heart rate skyrocket to a painful rate, the blood pounding in his ears taking over all other sounds in the room. His head was pounding in time to said rhythm, clouding his vision.

Sam would’ve blacked out completely if it wasn’t for the loud booming sound of a gun being fired.

The demon looked down at his chest for a moment, and Sam looked behind him to see Dean in an awkward sitting position. He had the Colt in his hand. Sam’s eyes went wide with shock.

The demon started surging with fatal power as the bullet known for its ability to kill anything took its victim. The demon’s body dropped to the ground with a deafening thud, ending the tense standoff. The orb of power that represented your Gift floated back towards you and submerged itself within your body. You drew a loud wheeze of breath as your reclaim your power, but it didn’t last long. You fell still once more. Sam dropped to the ground, catching his breath, his hand placed over his feverishly pounding heart. Dean dragged himself to crawl over towards Sam, who helped him stand up.

“You alright, little brother?” Dean said through the pain.

“I’ll live,” Sam grunted. Then his eyes traveled over to you, and his old protective instincts kicked in.

Sam ran over towards your frame as Dean limped over. The brothers managed to cut the bonds that kept you in the chair, and you fell out, straight into Sam’s awaiting arms.

Dean pulled out his cell phone, flipped it open and dialed three numbers.

“I need an ambulance at, uh…” Dean walked towards the outdoors to find the address of the bookstore, leaving Sam to try and arouse you.

“Y/N? Y/N, baby? Please wake up! Y/N!”

You didn’t move a muscle. Sam placed two fingers gingerly under the side of your jaw to feel your pulse. While he was glad when it was still beating, albeit weak and slow, you still weren’t breathing. Sam laid you on the hard ground and started breathing for you. Dean came back in.

“There’s an ambulance on its way,” Dean said, slightly out of breath.

Sam didn’t reply. He knew time was very precious right now so he just kept giving you rescue breaths until the sound of sirens filled the air. Dean left to flag the paramedics down and lead them to where you and Sam were. When they arrived, they wasted no time taking over resuscitation efforts.

They got you loaded onto their stretcher and the group of you made your way towards the awaiting ambulance. Dean was arguing with the medics about having his arm looked at, but Sam insisted on it, saying he’d follow behind the ambulance towards the hospital.

It was the longest ride in Sam’s 23 years of life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter coming this week! Thanks to everyone who's been keeping up with this series :D


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our story begins during 2x22, All Hell Breaks Looks Part Two, where Sam wakes up from death after Dean makes a deal with a crossroads demon to bring him back to life. What will Sam do when he finds out nobody remembers his girlfriend Y/N?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: FLUFF, ANGST, HOSPITALS, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE

 

Ellen, Jo, and Bobby weren’t able to make the trip to New London, Connecticut, where the closest hospital was to Mystic, so Bobby told the boys to “bring my niece home for good.” The Winchesters swore it on their lives.

Dean’s broken arm wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. His elbow was dislocated in the “fight” (the brothers were sticking with the story that your crazy ex-boyfriend tried to kill you and Sam and Dean came to defend your honor) and they managed to pop it back into place and cast it up. He’d be in said cast for about 6 weeks.

Sam unintendedly skipped meals in order to stay by your side while you recovered in the hospital. But it only took two days being admitted for the nurses taking care of you to notice the sounds Sam’s stomach made when he got hungry, so they started inquiring as to what he wanted and were happy to feed him 3 square meals a day for the time you were gonna be spending there. They also brought him a blanket and pillow to sleep on the recliner in your hospital room. Sam was grateful, and a little embarrassed that his stomach got him in trouble.

A week later and you were still unconscious, though your wounds were finally starting to show signs of healing. Dean walked in to find Sam eating what should’ve been your lunch, sighing as he closed the door.

“Dude, you need to get out of here.”

“Why?” Sam said mid-chew. “If she wakes up and I’m not here, then what?”

“Sam, the doctor said Y/N’s not gonna wake up any time soon. Her head and chest injuries were too severe and are gonna take time to heal before she’ll regain conscious. But  _you,_ ” Dean walked over to Sam and grabbed the tray of food he was eating.

“Hey!” Sam protested, “I was eating that!”

“You need to get out. Go get some fresh air, go for a drive, read a book, something. You’re gonna suffocate yourself in here.”

“How would you know that?”

“Because I, little brother, pay attention to you and your weird habits. Y/N’s gonna be okay. She’s in the best place right now. Please. Go stretch those freakishly long legs for yours. For me.”

Sam looked at his brother, then looked down at you.

“You still don’t remember her, do you Dean?” Sam said in a quiet voice.

Sadness filled Dean’s gut. “No. I can’t even say she looks familiar. I honestly have never seen her before in my life before the basement and the demon.”

Sam could feel tears starting to well up in his eyes. He fought them back. “I wish you could remember her.”

“Me too.”

Sam furrowed his brow and looked at Dean. “Really?”

Dean looked at Sam. “Really. If what you told me is true… I think she could be good for you, Sammy. You deserve to be happy for once in your life.”

“Dean,” Sam said as he walked towards the door, opening it. “She  _was_  good for me.”

He let that sentence ponder in his older brother’s brain as he left.

Stepping outside, he knew Dean was right. There was no telling how long you were going to remain hospitalized and he couldn’t become a recluse now. So he decided to take a walk. It was actually a beautiful breezy day outside and the hospital was right by a large pond, complete with ducks and geese grazing the nearby grass. He walked over and sat down on a bench, taking in the seaside scenery. He pulled out his phone and tried to send a text to let Dean know where he was, but…

“Damn,” Sam mused, holding his phone up towards the sky, “no signal.”

_Oh well,_  Sam thought.  _Guess I’ll just be by myself for a little while._

* * *

Dean finished off Sam’s plate of food and pushed the tray out of the way, sitting down where Sam was previously. He studied your sleeping form, taking in every aspect of your appearance. You had long Y/H/C hair, Y/S/C, though it was rather pale at the moment, you were tied down to all the medical machines and wires needed to monitor your vitals signs. He could only guess what color your eyes were, given they were currently closed. But he imagined they’d be very pretty. All in all, you were a very beautiful young woman. Dean was known for his record of one night stands, but Sam was always the kind of guy who found someone and settled with them, playing the long-term game. He could see you and Sam being together, just by looks alone.

“I wish I could remember you,” Dean said softly, studying how your chest rose and fell with each breath you took. “Judging by appearance alone, I can see Sammy going for a pretty girl like you. I can only imagine how much of a badass you are at hunting.”

Dean leaned back into the recliner and closed his eyes for a moment. A couple of deep breaths later, he heard movement. He opened his eyes and looked you over. And your hand was moving.

Then the rest of your body started to stir. Dean’s heart leapt in his chest.

“Y/N?” Dean said, barely above a whisper.

You cracked open your eyes, taking a bit of time to adjust to the bright lights of your room. You could hear the sound of the monitor keeping time with your heartbeat. You could feel the steady stream of oxygen flowing into your nasal passages by way of a nasal cannula. You could sort of feel the IV in the back of your left hand and the slight restraint of the blood pressure cuff on your right bicep. Everything was coming into focus. You looked to your right and saw a face you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“Dee?” You muttered hoarsely.

Dean smirked a sheepish smile, hoping you couldn’t see the doubt he was feeling inside.

“I bet you don’t remember me,” you said with a small grin.

“That would be an understatement, sweetheart,” Dean replied, sitting up and scooting his chair closer towards your bed. “But it’s nice to finally see what color your eyes are.”

You started laughing, but winced.  _Okay, laughing hurts,_  you thought humorously. Dean just smiled.

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you,” Dean went on, “don’t worry. So far it’s all been good.”

“I imagine Sam told quite a story,” you chuckled, which you discovered was a lot less painful than full laughter. “By the way, where is Sam?”

“I told him to go take a walk. He needs to stop hogging all the good looking ladies anyway.” Dean smiled at his horrible attempt at flirting with you.

You chuckled once more. “You haven’t changed a bit.” Dean’s smile faded slightly, but you went on. “Even when Sam and I were officially together, you still made wise cracks and poor attempts at trying to get me in your bed.”

“Yeah that does sound like me,” Dean lowered his gaze, as if he was ashamed.

“No it’s fine!” You tried to sit up and reach for him, but it hurt too much. You yelped in pain and Dean got up to comfort you. You settled back into bed with his help. “Really. You and I used to flirt back and forth all the time. I did so platonically, of course, but it was usually just to mess with Sam. That was one thing…honestly…that I missed about you. I had no one to cut up with like that out here.”

“Wow, you are so my brother’s type,” Dean smiled. You chuckled once more.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, and Dean reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He wanted to text Sam about you being awake, but there was no signal inside the hospital. He made a face and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

“Y/N,” Dean began, clearing his throat. “Even though I don’t remember you, and whatever we had together, I want…I want to remember. I wish I could…but I can’t. And…and that really bothers me.”

You pondered on his thoughts for a moment, then you remembered crucial information.

“That’s it,” you breathed, smiling.

“What’s it?”

“Something that demon was saying…” you sat up as straight as your battered body would allow. Dean adjusted himself so you wouldn’t have to work so hard to face him. “He said if I’d tried hard enough, I could undo my own workings…”

“You mean your ‘Gift’?” Dean asked with quotey fingers.

“Yeah. He told me that I had the power to undo the effects of my abilities, if I tried hard enough… he said it had the same affect that Sam being brought back from the dead had. Which, by the way…”

Dean braced for what he feared was going to be another bashing session over his deal with the crossroads demon.

“Thank you.”

Dean blinked. “Sorry?”

“Thank you. For saving his life. I know Sam is probably pretty pissed about it, and I’m fairly certain you only being given a year is weighing down on him significantly, but…I’m grateful he’s alive. I don’t know what I’d do if he stayed dead. So… thank you Dean. Thank you for saving the love of my life.”

There were a thousand things that Dean could’ve said in response to that. But there was one that stuck out in his mind the most.

“If Sammy is mad about the deal, he isn’t showing it. He’s had his nerdy little heart laser focused on finding you.”

If Dean noticed the fact that the heart monitor attached to you started beeping at a faster rate, he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Y/N?”

You whipped your head towards the voice you’d secretly missed hearing in person.

“Hey, Sam.”

* * *

Sam nearly crushed your windpipe beneath his fierce hug. That was another thing you missed about him. The hugs this man could give could rid the entire world of sadness. But breathing was something you enjoyed a bit more than that. He released you and the three of you caught up a bit before the doctor came in. He checked you over and determined you could possibly be discharged within a few more days, provided you continued healing at the appropriate rate.

You informed Sam and Dean about trying to reverse your Gift’s abilities, but Sam had his reservations.

“I just worry, that’s all.”

“What are you so worried about? It can’t be any different than when I remove people memories.”

“That’s not it,” Sam sighed, “I… you almost died in that basement, Y/N. I’m worried you could hurt yourself right now if you tried expending yourself in a way you’re not familiar with.”

“Well,” Dean said with a suspicious grin on his face, “let’s find out!”

“What?” Sam said.

“Are you sure?” You asked him.

“Y/N, no.”

“As a heart attack,” Dean winked.

“Are either of you listening to me?!”

“Okay, here goes.”

Before Sam could do or say anything, you focused really hard on your intent, putting the will of your Gift into said intent. You had to focus way harder on this. Erasing peoples’ memories came as easy as breathing so it didn’t require any real attention to detail. Sam watched you cautiously, his eyes darting from you to your monitors. It wasn’t until your heart rate started rapidly increasing and your nose started bleeding that Sam decided to intervene. But by the time he got up to shake you from your trance, you smacked Dean’s forehead with two fingers. The release of energy into the room made the light flicker and it sent you collapsing back into bed, exhausted.

Sam was by your side in an instant. “Y/N?”

But you didn’t respond. You opened your eyes, showing how much that single act took out of you. Your pupils were dilated wide and your heart rate was still very high, though steadily starting to come down. Sam looked over at Dean, who was shaking his head post-impact.

“Well?” Sam said softly to his brother.

Dean looked around, then looked at you, pointing. “Who’s that?”

Your heart dropped at Dean’s confused look. Sam’s did too.

But then Dean started laughing.

“Man, you should see the look on your face Sammy!” Dean laughed a bit louder, drawing another confused look from both you and Sam. “Oh man, you look like you saw me and Y/N in bed together! You remember that, Y/N/N? Sam went on a supply run and you had this great idea to appear like we were getting it on behind his back. Woo! You grabbed a blanket from his bed and threw it over us and we started moving around underneath it. Sammy, you were so pissed at me you ignored me for a week!” Dean had a grin on his face that warmed your heart.

_It worked._

“Not funny, Deano,” you retorted with a smile, showing you weren’t mad at him.

“Yeah, not funny,” Sam was less than amused. “Did you hear how fast her heart was beating? You could’ve hurt her! And you,” Sam pointed at you. “You could’ve hurt yourself a lot more!”

“Are you kidding me Sam?” Dean argued back. “Y/N is a badass. She’s one of the best hunters we’ve ever come across! She’s made of fucking steel. She’s tougher than that.” Dean winked at you.

Everyone breathed a collective relieved sigh.

“I’ve missed you two so much,” you said finally.

“We’ve missed you too, Y/N,” Sam said, bending over to kiss your forehead.

* * *

Sure enough, four days later, the three of you were seated in your old assigned seating arrangement in the Impala and driving back to the Roadhouse. But not before a mysterious fire ripped through the bookstore and top floor apartment. Dusty was situated in your lap, enjoying the rumble of the old muscle car’s engine as it lulled him to sleep. Sam and Dean were back to their old bantering and you couldn’t be happier.

A day’s drive later, and you were being embraced by your uncle Bobby, as well as Ellen and Jo. It was a happy reunion, until it was time to get down to business.

“You used the Colt?” you said, stunned, to Dean. “But that means there aren’t any bullets left to use on Azazel!”

“Well it was either that or let you and Sam die. And I wasn’t having that.”

Sam averted his gaze to the floor. You grabbed his hand and held it firm. He looked up at you and an expression of guilt crossed his handsome features.

“Sam, I know you feel guilty, but don’t. Any one of us would’ve done whatever it took to save your life. Myself included. It wasn’t your fault. And in any case,” you cut him off as he opened his mouth to argue, “that’s all subjective. This is where we are now. We’ll deal with Dean’s…deal later. Right now we need to focus our efforts on killing Azazel for good.”

“In regards to the Colt,” Bobby spoke up, “I may have a solution.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to him as he pulled out what looked like weapon diagrams. On the old rotting piece of parchment you could see ancient occult symbols scribbled all over, and an ingredient list. Upon closer inspection you also saw what looked like the layout of…

_Holy shit._

“Is that what I think it is?” You asked incredulously. Everyone turned their eyes to you.

“If my sources are correct, and they usually are,” Bobby answered, his demeanor positive, “this is the original blueprint for the Colt’s demon killing bullets. It’s not dated or signed by Samuel Colt himself, but again, I’ve trusted my sources for years. I ain’t gonna doubt them now.”

Sam and Dean looked like someone handed them the winning jackpot lottery ticket. Ellen and Jo’s faces didn’t look any different. You just ran around the table and threw your arms around Bobby. He hugged you back. Then you looked at the brothers and smiled.

* * *

Because Bobby already had all the ingredients needed to make more Colt bullets, and the time it took you guys to figure out where Azazel was gonna strike, come midnight the six of you went to Wyoming and braved for the worst.

Sam was able to confront Jake directly about his demise, and they all struggled to get the Colt from him after he used his powers to obtain it, using it as a key to open the Devil’s Gate. But Sam got the upper hand and killed him, shooting him once in the back and five more time once Jake was already down. You were concerned that Sam’s revenge was a bit on the overkill side, but that was a problem for another day.

After decades had passed since their mother’s death, Dean was able to put a Colt bullet in Azazel’s chest, ending the Winchester family business mission. But that didn’t stop the Devil’s Gate from being opened and letting out a horde of demons into the world.

Then there was Sam and Dean discussing Dean’s deal in more detail.

“You’re my big brother,” a testy eyed Sam told Dean in the end. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I don’t care what it takes, I’m gonna get you out of this deal.”

“Looks like Sam’s gonna have to save your ass for once,” you said, approaching the brothers. Sam immediately grabbed you and hugged you, kissing you fiercely and with passion. You’d missed this so much.

Shit was about to get very bad. But you had your man, you had his brother. And they both had their memories of you. There was nothing that could tear you three apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone who's left kudos, comments, and bookmarked! This was the final chapter. I love y'all so much and your love is appreciated :D


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